fhte  WiNiN/iblG  Of  Ttte  Soul 


0.(5  ^^ 


LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


BX   5937    .P37    1893 

Parks,   Leighton,    1852-1938 

The  winning  of  the  soul 


I 


THE 

WINNING    OF  THE    SOUL 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Archive 

in  2009  with  funding  from 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


http://www.archive.org/details/winningofsoulothOOpark 


THE  f      OOf   151925 

Winning  of  the  Soul 


ant)  €)t]^er  ^ermonsi 


BY 

LEIGHTON  ^PARKS 

RECTOR   OF    EMMANUEL   CHURCH,  BOSTON 


NEW  YORK 
E.  P.  BUTTON  AND  COMPANY 

31  West  Twenty-Third  Street 

1893 


Copyright,  1893, 
By  E.  p.  Dutton  and  Company. 


SInibersits  Press: 

John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge. 


STo  tlje  llemorg 


OF 

PHILLIPS    BROOKS, 

THE    ILLUSTRIOUS    PREACHER,    THE    NOBLE    BISHOP, 
THE    GREAT-HEARTED    FRIEND,    THE    MAN    OF    GOD, 

THIS   VOLUME 
(  The  title  of  which  he  chose) 

IS,    WITH     LOVING     REVERENCE, 
DEDICATED. 


CONTENTS. 


SERMON  PAGE 

I.     The  Winning  of  the  Soul 1 

II.     The  Potter's  Wheel 14 

III.  The  Killing  of  the  Son 34 

IV.  Revelation 51 

V.     The  Ministry  of  the  Church 63 

VI.     A  Christmas  Sermon 76 

VII.     The  Mirage  a  Reality 85 

VIII.     Seeing  the  Invisible 102 

IX.     Gambling 122 

X.     The  Newspaper 136 

XI.     The  Double  Crucifixion   . 152 

XII.  The  Naturalness  of  the  Resurrection     .  166 

XIII.  The  New  Birth 177 

XIV.  The  Sufficiency  of  Evil 190 

XV.     The  Soul's  Refuge 201 

XVI.  The  Arrow  of  the  Lord's  Deliverance     .  217 

XVII.     The  Power  of  the  Obvious 230 

XVIII.     All  Souls  Day 242 

XIX.  Phillips    Brooks:  The   Love   of  God   and 

THE  Service  of  Man 259 

XX.  Phillips    Brooks  :     The    Portion    of    the 

FiRST-BORN 271 


THE  WINNING   OF  THE   SOUL. 

In  your  patience  ye  shall  ivin  your  souls. 

St.  Luke,  xxi.  19. 

TN  the  words  which  precede  our  text  Jesus  has 
been  pointing  out  to  the  disciples  what  they  must 
expect  to  endure.  Indeed,  in  all  his  dealings  with  his 
disciples  he  never  failed  to  point  out  to  them  that  the 
Christian  life  did  not  mean  escape  from  the  losses,  the 
perplexities,  the  trials,  and  the  sorrows  that  were  to 
be  found  in  the  world  at  large.  All  that  He  said 
was,  that  out  of  that  sorrow  there  should  come  a  joy 
which  no  man  could  take  from  the  loving  soul,  and 
that  in  the  midst  of  it  we  shall  by  patience  win  our 
souls. 

The  expression  is  a  striking  one,  —  much  more 
forcible  than  that  with  which  we  are  familiar  in  our 
King  James  version  of  the  Bible,  where  it  says,  "  In 
your  patience  possess  ye  your  souls."  Here  we  are 
told  that  by  patience  we  shall  win  our  souls,  so  put- 
ting before  us   at  once  the   meaning  of  life   as  a 


2  THE    WINNING   OF   THE   SOUL. 

struggle,  and  also  the  end  and  object  of  life,  the  true 
prize  after  which  men  should  reach. 

And  does  not  that  bring  our  Christian  life,  my 
friends,  into  harmony  with  what  we  are  learning  every 
day  about  the  mystery  of  life  wherever  it  is  mani- 
fested on  our  planet  ?  Every  tree  that  to-day  is  put- 
ting forth  its  leaves  anew,  every  flower  that  to-day 
opens  its  calyx  with  new  beauty  that  it  may  refresh 
the  heart  of  man,  has  passed  through  a  great  struggle 
of  which  we  think  but  little,  and  yet  a  struggle  which 
began  at  the  very  moment  the  seed  was  planted  in  the 
ground.  The  meaning  of  the  fruit  upon  the  tree  in 
its  season,  and  the  meaning  of  the  flower  upon  the 
stem  in  its  appointed  hour,  i^the  victory  in  the  long 
battle  for  life,  so  that  every  flower  that  we  shall  pass 
on  our  homeward  way  to-day  is  saying  to  us,  if  we  can 
only  understand  its  meaning,  "  In  my  patience  I  have 
won  my  life." 

It  brings,  I  say,  the  Christian  life  into  harmony 
with  the  meaning  of  life  wherever  we  find  it.  Life  is 
a  long  struggle,  and  that  which,  as  we  say,  survives, 
is  the  particular  manifestation  of  life  which  has  won 
itself  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  I  think  it  is  well 
for  us  to  look  at  this  aspect  of  our  Christian  life 
from  time  to  time,  because  there  are  so  many  different 
theories  about  the  meaning  and  object  of  religion. 

Men  often  think  about  religion  very  much  as  they 
think  about  a   fortune.      There  are  some  men  who 


THE    WINNING   OF   THE  SOUL.  3 

labor  day  by  day,  not  because  they  love  work,  but 
because  they  fear  the  penalty  of  idleness.  It  is  the 
spur  of  want  that  drives  them  to  labor.  So  there 
are  Christians  who  think  of  religion  as  a  thing  that 
it  is  desirable  for  them  to  participate  in,  not  because 
they  love  it,  but  because  they  are  afraid  if  they  neg- 
lect it  some  penalty  of  awful  punishment  will  fall 
upon  them  some  day  beyond  the  grave.  That  is  the 
lowest  form  of  looking  upon  work,  or  of  looking  at 
religion ;  and  yet,  just  as  we  would  all  say  that  it  is 
better  for  a  man  to  go  to  his  labor  day  after  day, 
driven  by  the  goad  of  want,  rather  than  to  live  in 
idleness,  so  we  say  it  is  better  for  a  man  to  lead  an 
upright  life  driven  there  by  fear  than  not  to  live  an 
upright  life  at  all,  because  it  is  always  something  for 
a  man  to  form  good  habits,  even  if  the  motive  that  led 
him  to  those  habits  be  not  the  highest. 

Or,  again,  there  are  men  who  work  day  by  day,  not 
because  they  are  driven  by  the  fear  of  want,  but  be- 
cause they  love  the  wages  that  they  receive.  That  is 
a  higher  form  than  the  other,  and  yet  it  is  not  the 
highest.  And  so  there  are  men  in  the  Church,  who 
are  living  what  they  call  a  religious  life,  who  are  up- 
right, who  are  denying  themselves  now,  who  are  fol- 
lowing a  certain  course  that  is  supposed  to  be  safe, 
the  object  they  have  in  mind  being  to  get  a  reward 
some  time  hereafter.  Some  day  they  hope  that  God 
will  pay  them  for  all  that  they  have  given  up  for  his 


4  THE    WINNING   OF   THE   SOUL, 

sake ;  they  dream  of  standing  some  day  in  heaven  and 
hearing  God  say  to  them,  "  You  gave  up  a  great  deal 
for  me.  I  understood  that  you  did  not  love  me,  that 
it  was  no  pleasure  for  you  to  commune  with  me  in 
prayer,  that  you  hated  to  go  to  church,  but  inasmucli 
as  you  have  been  a  religious  man,  I  will  now  reward 
you  by  giving  you  a  place  in  the  kingdom,  where  you 
can  do  your  own  pleasure  throughout  all  eternity." 
Now  that  also  is  not  a  very  high  notion  of  religion, 
and  yet  we  say  again  that  it  is  better  for  a  man  to 
conform  to  those  standards  that  the  Church  has  found 
by  long  experience  to  be  helpful  to  the  soul,  even 
though  he  have  no  liigher  notion  than  to  be  paid  by 
God  for  doing  his  duty,  than  not  to  conform,  and  to 
be  careless  and  indifferent,  because  he  is  always  in  an 
atmosphere  where  it  is  possible  for  him  to  feel  the  in- 
fluence of  a  nobler  and  better  life. 

And  lastly,  just  as  there  are  men  who  are  no  longer 
driven  to  their  work  by  any  fear  of  want,  and  who 
have  passed  far  beyond  the  position  where  their  work 
can  be  estimated  and  paid  for  by  wages,  but  who  do 
their  work  simply  and  solely  because  they  know  that 
in  so  doing  they  are  fulfilling  themselves,  developing 
themselves  to  the  highest  degree  possible,  and  so  love 
and  rejoice  in  their  work  without  any  thought  of  fear 
or  favor,  —  so  there  are  men  who  are  leading  a  reli- 
gious life  without  the  fear  of  hell  to  deter  them,  with- 
out the  promise  of  heaven  to  pay  them,  but  because 


THE    WINNING   OF   THE   SOUL.  5 

they  have  come  to  love  the  character  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  desire  to  attain  unto  that  charac- 
ter, at  least  in  part,  before  their  days  are  ended.  And 
that,  my  friends,  is  the  highest  and  noblest  thought 
that  a  man  can  have  of  religion. 

And  yet  there  are  men  who  say.  Is  not  that  a  sub- 
tle form  of  selfishness  ?  When  we  say  that  the  ob- 
ject of  our  life  is  to  make  the  most  of  ourselves,  to  be 
the  best  we  know  how  to  be,  are  we  not  then  really 
selfish  ?  Now  of  course  it  is  difficult  to  answer  such 
a  question  as  that,  because  we  are  using  the  word 
"self"  in  two  senses.  And  in  order  to  clear  our 
minds  of  that  sophistry  which  1  know  perplexes  cer- 
tain among  you  here,  it  is  desirable  for  us  to  ask 
ourselves  what  we  mean  when  we  speak  of  self. 

There  is  in  every  one  of  us  a  double  self.  There 
is  a  self  that  belongs  to  the  animal  nature,  out  of 
which  we  have  been  drawn  by  this  long  process 
which  we  call  creation,  or  evolution.  And,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  is  in  every  one  of  us  that  higher, 
nobler  self  which  is  allied  to  God,  that  reaches  up  to 
God,  that  finds  its  joy  in  communion  with  God.  Now, 
then,  any  man  who  sacrifices  that  higher  nature  which 
speaks  to  him  through  the  voice  of  duty,  and  yields 
to  the  pleasures  of  life  that  manifest  themselves  in 
his  lower  nature,  is  a  selfish  man.  The  man  who  will 
sacrifice  his  friend,  his  family,  everything  that  ought 


6  THE    WINNING   OF   THE   SOUL. 

to  appeal  to  his  higher  nature,  —  country,  duty,  con- 
science,—  for  the  pleasure  of  the  moment,  to  increase 
the  satisfaction  of  his  lower  nature,  is  a  selfish  man ; 
and  so  too  the  man  who  is  always  on  a  lookout  for  the 
things  that  will  please  that  lower  nature  is  essentially 
selfish,  even  though  he  be  not  conscious  of  wrong- 
doing. But  when  we  speak  of  a  man's  devoting  the 
energy  of  his  life  to  the  enlargement  and  the  deepen- 
ing and  the  heightening  of  that  nobler  self  within 
him  which  is  allied  to  God,  we  cannot,  without  a  mis- 
use of  words,  speak  of  that  as  selfish ;  for  while  it 
is  a  part  of  self,  it  is  far  more  a  part  of  God,  and  the 
man  who  is  trying  to  do  his  duty  and  to  make  the 
most  of  himself  is  really  drawing  nearer  and  nearer 
to  that  point  of  which  St.  Paul  speaks  as  the  summit 
of  human  endeavor,  when  a  man  can  say,  "  I,  this 
old  self,  am  dead,  and  my  life,  my  higher  self,  is  hid 
with  Christ  in  God."  To  have  the  vision  of  the  per- 
fect life  as  revealed  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  draw  near 
to  that  life  and  make  it  one's  own,  is  what  I  think 
Jesus  meant  when  He  spoke  of  winning  the  soul,  of 
laying  hold  of  the  true  life  that  belongs  to  every  one 
of  us,  but  which  no  one  of  us  has  really  and  alto- 
gether possessed. 

And  now  we  have  to  ask  ourselves.  If  this  be  true, 
what  is  the  process  by  which  the  result  desired  is 
reached  ?     And  heie  we  have  the  story  of  the  Gospel 


THE    WINNING    OF   THE   SOUL.  7 

to  help  us.  That  story  that  tells  us  that  man  does 
not  have  to  climb  up  into  heaven  to  win  God,  but  that 
God  has  descended  to  human  life ;  that  every  hu- 
man life  belongs  to  God,  and  from  the  very  moment 
the  child  is  born  the  Spirit  of  God  is  resting  upon 
it,  striving  to  make  it  more  and  more  like  Jesus 
Christ.  If  the  story  of  that  Gospel  be  true,  we  can 
understand  why  Christ  laid  such  emphasis  upon  pa- 
tience, — ''  In  your  patience  ye  shall  win  your  souls,"  — 
because  all  that  the  soul  has  to  do  for  its  salvation  is 
to  rest  patiently  in  the  midst  of  the  perplexities  and 
sorrows  and  trials  of  life,  and  allow  the  Spirit  of  God 
to  incarnate  itself  in  it,  according  to  its  capacity  to 
receive  it,  as  the  Divine  life  was  incarnated  in  Jesus 
in  the  perfection  in  which  humanity  can  receive  it. 
For  God  is  striving  with  us  every  day  to  bring  us  to 
the  knowledge  of  Himself  as  revealed  in  Jesus  Christ, 
that  we  seeing  that  life  in  Jesus  Christ  may  think  of 
it,  not  as  an  exceptional  life  that  has  burst  in  upon 
humanity,  but  may  think  of  it  as  the  normal  life,  the 
life  that  God  in  his  creation  of  humanity  intended 
and  desired  every  man,  according  to  his  capacity,  and 
according  to  the  circumstances  of  his  time,  to  live. 
And  so  we  win  that  life  as  the  artist  wins  his  picture. 
He  has  a  vision,  and  yet  it  is  dim  and  uncertain,  but 
by  patience,  by  waiting,  by  allowing  the  vision  to  de- 
scend until  it  fills  his  being,  little  by  little  he  is  able 
to  express  it  in  some  outward  form,  and  in  that  day 


8  THE    WINNING    OF   THE   SOUL. 

the  artist  has  won  his  picture.  The  picture  was  float- 
ing before  him  as  a  cloud,  that  sometimes  seemed  to 
take  shape  and  then  again  melted  into  thin  air  ;  but 
at  last  by  patient  waiting  the  vision  descended,  incar- 
nated itself  in  the  man's  life,  and  he  was  able  to  ex- 
press it,  and  then,  but  not  until  then,  the  picture 
was  his. 

Now  I  ask  you,  for  a  moment,  to  turn  with  me  to 
certain  illustrations  of  this  truth  that  perhaps  will  be 
helpful  to  us  in  our  daily  lives. 

Look  first  for  a  moment  at  the  sorrows  of  life.  We 
all  know,  when  sorrows  come  upon  us,  that  what  we 
wish  is  comfort,  —  the  comfort  of  God.  And  nothing 
is  more  common  in  such  an  hour  than  for  people  to 
be  surprised  that  the  comfort  of  God  does  not  come 
instantly  after  the  sorrow  has  fallen  upon  them.  It 
is  one  of  the  great  perplexities  of  life.  It  causes  so 
much  unhappiness.  Men  and  women  that  have  served 
God  and  loved  God,  and  lived  the  Christian  life,  are 
compassed  about  with  sorrow.  Then  they  expect  to 
know  the  comfort  of  God  at  once,  and  sometimes  it  is 
so,  but  not  often.  Now,  why  is  it  ?  Is  it  not  this,  my 
friends,  —  that  if  what  we  have  said  before  is  true,  if 
God  is  incarnating  himself  in  the  life  of  every  one  of 
us,  then  the  Divine  life  must,  in  order  for  that  incarna- 
tion, subject  itself  to  the  laws  and  conditions  of  human 
life,  one  of  whicli  is  time  ?    We  might  as  well  ask  why. 


THE    WINNING    OF   THE   SOUL.  9 

if  in  Jesus  "  dwelt  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bod- 
ily," He  did  not,  when  He  lay  in  his  mother's  arms  a 
little  child,  speak  as  a  man,  work  miracles  with  those 
baby  fingers,  and  convert  the  world  by  the  shining 
out  of  the  Divine  effulgence  from  his  infant  face.  It 
was  because  it  was  a  true  Incarnation.  It  was  not  an 
Avatar,  a  sudden  descent  of  God  into  some  particular 
vessel  of  mankind,  in  order  that  the  Divine  power 
might  for  a  moment  be  seen,  startling  and  terrifying 
humanity.  No,  it  was  an  Incarnation,  a  participa- 
tion in  human  life  by  the  Divine  life,  and  it  expanded 
as  Jesus  "  increased  in  wisdom  and  stature,  and  in 
favor  with  God  and  man."  Now,  if  the  incarnation 
of  Jesus  required  time  to  work  out  to  the  full  the 
meaning  of  God  in  man,  how  much  more  must  it  be 
so  with  you  and  me.  If  we  can  be  patient,  if  we  can 
wait,  if  we  can  hold  back  the  rash  judgment  that  as- 
cends the  throne  and  condemns  God  without  a  hear- 
ing, if  we  can  rest  until  the  voice  of  God  can  be 
heard  upon  the  dull  ear,  then  in  our  patience  we  shall 
win  our  souls;  we  shall  know  the  comfort  of  God, 
which  is  the  power  and  glory  of  human  life. 

Or,  again,  in  the  trials  of  life  how  hard  it  is  to 
be  patient,  to  wait.  How  hard  it  is  to  believe  that 
those  who  trouble  and  perplex  our  lives  can  have  any 
good  in  them.  We  make  a  great  resolution,  we  say, 
"I  will  live  differently  in  my  family,  I  will  behave 
towards  those  who  perplex  and  trouble  me  in  a  dif- 


10  THE    WINNING   OF   THE   SOUL. 

ferent  way  from  that  in  which  I  behaved  before '' ; 
and  then  in  a  moment  the  good  resolution  is  shat- 
tered, because  we  cannot  believe  that  there  is  any 
good  in  a  life  that  perplexes  us,  and  the  subtle  sug- 
gestion of  tlie  tempter  is  heard,  saying,  "  Did  not 
God  make  me  to  fulfil  my  life  ?  Why  should  I 
alone  of  all  God's  creatures  suffer  and  be  disregarded 
and  despised  ?  Why  should  I  alone  be  cut  off  from 
happiness  and  joy  and  the  fulfilment  of  the  best  that 
is  in  me  ?  Why  should  I  submit  when  submission 
seems  to  have  no  outlet,  when  submission  will  do 
no  good,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  to  any  other  soul  ? 
Why  should  not  I  be  free  to  live  my  life  as  it  seems 
best  to  me  to  live  it,  and  to  make  the  most  of 
myself,  which  I  believe  God  desires?"  Ay,  God 
desires  us  to  make  the  most  of  ourselves.  God  de- 
sires us  to  win  our  souls,  to  lay  hold  upon  the  Divine 
life.  But  it  is  not  by  disregarding  the  duties  of  life, 
it  is  not  by  setting  ourselves  free  from  the  trammels 
that  seem  to  prevent  a  larger  liberty,  it  is  not  by 
taking  life  into  one's  own  hand,  that  the  true  life  of 
the  soul  is  to  be  won.  It  is  in  the  patience  that  waits 
upon  the  Lord.  When  you  hear  the  voice  saying,  Lo, 
your  true  life  is  here,  or  it  is  there,  believe  it  not.  It 
is  in  the  midst  of  your  trials ;  for  wherever  there  is 
room  for  sacrifice,  there  is  room  for  God. 

Lastly,  it  is  true  of  those  perplexities  that  arise 
about  the  knowledge  of  God.     A  man  or  woman  lias 


THE    WINNING    OF   THE   SOUL.  11 

passed  on  through  childhood  and  early  youth  without 
any  thought  of  God  or  his  revelation  in  nature,  or 
in  the  Bible,  or  in  the  spirit  of  man,  and  at  last  the 
soul  becomes  conscious  that  it  holds  relation  to 
Something  that  it  does  not  see,  nor  touch,  nor  hear. 
"  Now,  then,"  says  the  soul,  "  why  is  it,  if  there  be 
any  reality  answering  to  this  suspicion  of  my  nature 
that  there  is  a  God, —  why  is  it  that  instantly  my 
soul  is  not  filled  with  the  absolute  certainty  of  the 
existence  of  God,  and  the  joy  that  should  flow  from 
communion  with  Him?"  Sometimes  it  is  suggested 
to  such  a  soul  that  God  is  angry,  —  that  because  it 
has  neglected  God,  now  God  will  neglect  it.  That  is 
heathenism ;  no  matter  who  says  it,  or  where  it  is 
said,  it  is  heathenism.  God  is  our  Father,  and  the 
very  instant  that  we  turn  to  Him,  He  will  reveal 
Himself  to  us  to  the  utmost  of  our  capacity  to  re- 
ceive Him.  But  it  is  not  strange  that  the  arm  that 
has  lain  long  unused  in  sickness  and  at  last  lifts  it- 
self up  and  tries  to  grasp  one  of  the  many  handles 
of  life,  should  find  that  the  fingers  tremble  and  the 
grasp  is  infirm.  Nor  is  it  strange  that  the  soul  that 
has  not  known  God  in  early  childhood  and  in  the 
glow  of  youth  should  find  that  it  takes  time  to  enter 
into  intimacy  with  God,  just  as  it  takes  time  to  enter 
into  the  deepest  and  truest  intimacy  with  a  noble  hu- 
man soul.  But  if  we  will  be  patient,  if  we  will  wait 
upon  the  Lord,  then,  my  friends,  we  shall  win  that 


12  THE    WINNING    OF   THE   SOUL. 

knowledge  of  God  which  is  the  life  and  the  joy  of 
the  soul. 

Can  we  not  see,  then,  what  it  is  that  Jesus  is  trying 
to  say  to  us  ?  It  is  that  life  is  one  long  struggle,  and 
that  we  need  not  suppose  that  happiness,  peace,  and 
joy  are  to  come  instantly  upon  our  life.  No,  life  is 
one  long  struggle,  and  the  end  and  object  of  it  is  to 
win  the  character  of  Jesus  Christ.  That  is  not  to 
dress  like  Jesus  Christ,  nor  to  try  to  look  like  Jesus 
Christ,  nor  to  speak  his  words  or  to  eat  and  drink 
and  live  as  He  lived.  Not  so ;  but  to  incarnate  in 
our  own  life,  in  the  school,  in  the  business,  in  the 
home,  in  the  church,  everywhere,  the  same  Divine 
Spirit  that  made  Jesus  the  glory  and  the  beauty  and 
the  power  of  mankind.  That  is  the  end  and  object 
of  life.  It  is  not  to  gain  more  money  than  our  neigh- 
bors ;  it  is  not  to  have  larger  knowledge  than  our 
neighbors  ;  it  is  not  to  receive  the  applause  of  the 
multitude ;  it  is  to  win  our  souls,  and  that  is  to  win 
God. 

And  if  we  once  set  that  before  us,  then  go  on  to 
the  second  point,  and  remember  that  God  is  to  be 
won,  in  comfort,  and  in  knowledge,  and  in  the  power 
for  sacrifice,  only  by  patience.  If  we  take  that  view 
of  life,  my  friends,  and  set  before  us  the  true  object 
of  life,  the  winning  of  a  soul,  and  determine  that 


THE    WINNING   OF  THE   SOUL.  13 

that  soul  shall  be  won  in  the  patience  that  waits  for 
the  power  of  God  to  manifest  itself  in  our  lives,  we 
shall  have  a  clew  that  will  lead  us  through  the  dark- 
ness 'of  sorrow,  and  through  the  agony  of  sacrifice, 
and  through  the  mystery  of  learning,  until  we  hear 
that  word  which  will  be  the  announcement  of  no 
outward  reward,  but  simply  the  acknowledgment  of 
a  life  that  has  won  itself:  "Well  done,  good  and 
faithful  servant;  you  have  endured  to  the  end  and 
are  saved.  To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  grant  to 
sit  with  me  in  my  throne,  even  as  I  also  overcame, 
and  am  set  down  with  my  Father  in  his  throne." 


II. 

THE   POTTER'S   WHEEL. 

The  ivord  which  cmne  to  Jeremiah  from  the  Lordy  say- 
ing, Arise  ^  and  go  down  to  the  2)otter'' s  hoitse^  and  there  I 
ivill  cause  thee  to  hear  my  ivords.  Then  1 1 rent  down  to 
the  i^otter^s  house ,  and,  behold,  he  wrought  a  work  on  the 
wheels.  — Jeremiah,  xviii.  1-3. 

THE  potter's  house  has  been  used  as  a  parable  for 
raore  than  three  thousand  3'ears.  It  had  been 
used  in  Egypt  long  before  Jeremiah,  and  it  was  used 
in  Persia  long  after  him  ;  it  was  revived  by  St.  Paul, 
and  it  is  in  the  poetry  of  to-day.  The  word  of  the 
Lord  which  came  to  the  prophet  through  the  consid- 
eration of  that  simple  scene  was  sufficient  to  suggest 
the  answer  to  the  problem  of  his  day.  The  prophet 
went  into  the  potter's  house  perplexed  about  a  piob- 
lem  that  has  largely  lost  interest  for  us,  first,  l)ecause 
we  have  become  familiar  with  the  answer  to  it,  and 
secondly,  because  that  answer  only  prepared  the  way 
for  the  entrance  of  another  problem  to  the  solution  of 
which  no  man  can  be  indifferent. 

Does  God  rule  the  nations  of  the  earth  ?  When  men 
set  themselves  in  opposition  to  what  are  believed  to  be 


THE   POTTER'S    WHEEL.  15 

the  laws  of  righteousness,  will  the  nation  prosper  as 
it  would  have  done  if  righteousness  had  been  its  aim  ? 
Tliat  was  the  question  which  perplexed  the  prophet. 
But  when  he  looked  on  the  potter  and  saw  him  work  on 
the  wheels,  saw  him  fashion  a  vessel,  and  then  noted 
that,  when  the  vessel  proved  unfit  for  the  use  to  which 
it  was  designed,  it  was  broken  and  the  fragments 
mixed  with  new  clay  to  make  another  vessel,  he  rose 
to  the  thought  of  God,  and  became  convinced  that 
God  does  the  same.  If  the  nation  which  he  has 
chosen  does  not  show  itself  fitted  for  the  work,  it  is 
broken  and  mingled  with  another,  and  out  of  the 
conglomerate  the  needed  form  is  made.  God's  work, 
he  believed,  was  not  frustrated  by  man's  sin,  only  the 
nation  which  set  itself  against  God  was  broken. 

I  say  that  we  have  nowadays  but  slight  interest  in 
that  problem,  for  we  are  perplexed  by  a  deeper.  This 
one  concerns  the  individual  soul.  The  interest  in 
the  individual  arose  in  history,  we  may  say,  with  the 
introduction  of  the  religion  of  Jesus.  It  was  ob- 
scured and  came  to  the  front  again  at  the  Reforma- 
tion, was  again  obscured  by  the  shadow  of  dogmatism 
and  the  rise  of  modern  nationalities,  but  it  broke  out 
with  fearful  signs  in  the  French  Revolution,  and  is 
to-day  the  only  question  which  really  interests  man. 
Does  God  deal  with  the  individual  soul,  and  if  so  how  ? 
Can  we  answer  these  questions  ?     Not  as  we  might 


16  THE  POTTER'S   WHEEL. 

wish,  perhaps,  but  in  part  at  least.  The  parable  of 
the  potter's  house  has  not  exhausted  its  significance. 
Let  us  too  arise  and  go  down  into  his  house  to-day. 
It  may  be  that  there  the  Lord  will  cause  us  to  hear 
his  words. 

Somehow  the  human  mind  came  to  suspect  that  each 
man  was  in  direct  and  intimate  relationship  with  God, 
that  he  was  dealing  with  him  as  truly  as  if  there  were 
no  other  being  in  the  universe.  Every  word  of  Jesus 
tended  to  deepen  that  impression.  He  used  strong 
words  to  express  his  own  confidence  in  this  belief: 
"  The  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all  numbered. .  .  .  Not 
one  sparrow  falleth  to  the  ground  without  your  Heav- 
enly Father.  Are  ye  not  of  more  value  than  they  ? " 
As  long  as  the  human  mind  was  childlike,  that  is  to 
say,  as  long  as  it  received  simple  impressions  without 
trying  to  analyze  their  origin  or  the  laws  of  their  ac- 
tion, doubt  did  not  appear.  But  it  was  inevitable  that 
questions  should  be  asked  and  answers  expected.  It 
is  not  my  purpose  to  ask  you  to  consider  the  answers 
which  have  been  given  to  the  great  question  concern- 
ing God's  dealing  with  the  soul.  I  wish  rather  to  go 
with  you  into  the  potter's  house,  and  see  what  we  can 
see  for  ourselves. 

The  first  thing  which  attracts  our  notice  is  the 
clay.     It  is  of  different  qualities.     Some  of  it  is  very 


THE  POTTER'S  WHEEL.  17 

pure  and  pliable,  other  is  too  soft  —  "  fat "  the  potter 
calls  it  —  to  be  used  in  its  present  state;  some  is  al- 
most white,  and  will  make  the  finest  porcelain,  other 
has  such  an  excess  of  iron  that  it  will  make  only 
colored  ware;  some  is  doubtful,  —  it  will  form,  but 
it  will  twist  or  crack  in  the  firing. 

The  interpretation  of  the  parable  is  simple.  The 
clay  of  the  potter  is  human  nature,  good,  bad,  and  in- 
different. Is  there  any  of  it  so  bad  that  it  cannot  be 
used  ?  Not  if  it  be  clay.  There  is  no  clay  that  the 
potter  cannot  employ.  He  cannot  use  stone,  and  lie 
cannot  make  a  vase  of  water.  But  clay  of  any  sort 
he  can  make  something  of.  Let  us  fix  our  mind  upon 
that  to  begin  with.  No  man  is  so  bad  that  something 
cannot  be  made  of  him.  There  are  men  so  hard  that 
they  seem  to  be  stone  ;  there  are  others  so  flabby 
that  it  seems  as  if  they  never  could  hold  together  on 
the  revolving  wheel ;  still,  if  they  be  men,  something 
can  be  done.  It  may  not  be  possible  to  make  poets 
and  statesmen  of  them,  any  more  than  it  is  possible 
to  make  Sevres  china  of  Jersey  clay ;  but  they  can 
be  moulded  and  fixed  into  some  form  of  usefulness 
as  long  as  they  are  men. 

The  difficulty,  however,  which  arises  in  some  men's 
minds,  even  when  that  is  settled,  is  this :  Is  not  the 
best  what  we  want  ?  Can  we  rest  satisfied  with  any 
dealing  with  human  nature  which  leaves  the  large  ma- 
jority of  the  race  on  a  low  plane,  and  exalts  only  a 

2 


18  THE   POTTER'S    WHEEL. 

chosen  few  ?  Now,  if  we  cannot,  how  can  the  Cre- 
ator ?  Must  we  not  suppose  that  he  too  is  disap- 
pointed in  his  work,  and  that  he  is  limited  in  his 
operations  ?  How  then  can  we  believe  in  One  who  is 
omnipotent  ?  Is  not  he  too  limited  by  necessity,  and 
are  we  not  right  in  saying  that  that  which  determines 
character  is  the  previous  condition  of  the  material 
with  which  God  works  ?  And  does  not  this  lead 
finally  to  disbelief  in  God  ?  It  certainly  does  lead  to 
a  disbelief  in  such  a  God  as  we  have  fancied.  But  it 
may  lead  to  a  belief  in  a  nobler  God  than  that.  The 
potter  puts  his  hand  on  a  lump  of  clay.  Now,  we 
say,  we  know  what  that  is  to  be.  He  can  never  make 
pure  porcelain  out  of  it.  Well,  who  said  that  he 
intended  to  ?  Wlio  told  us  that  he  tried  to  and 
failed  ?  Who  taught  us  that  he  wanted  to,  and  found 
when  the  clay  was  in  his  hands  that  he  must  only  do 
the  best  he  could  under  the  circumstances?  Did  not 
the  potter  bring  the  clay  into  the  house  ?  Did  lie  not 
know  what  he  would  find  there  ?  Have  we  discovered 
a  secret  which  he  did  not  know  ?  Not  so.  The  Ji7ie- 
ness  of  the  pottery  is  determiued  by  tlie  quality  of  the 
clay,  and  so  is  its  color,  but  not  its  form.  That  is  the 
work  of  the  potter  alone.  It  is  in  that  that  we  see 
the  power  of  his  genius.  And  the  coarser  the  material 
and  the  cruder  its  color,  the  more  are  we  led  to  mar- 
vel at  the  genius  and  the  goodness  which  was  content 
to  embody  itself  in  such  material.     Let  us  learn  of 


THE   POTTER'S   WHEEL.  19 

God,  not  teach  him.  The  more  we  study  human  nature, 
the  more  we  become  convinced  that  God  never  in- 
tended all  men  to  be  alike.  "  In  a  great  house  there 
are  vessels  of  honor  and  vessels  of  dishonor,"  —  that 
is,  nothing  useless,  only  some  better  fitted  than  others 
for  particular  purposes.  The  more  we  study  sociology, 
the  more  we  feel  convinced  that  it  would  be  a  fatal 
thing  to  have  a  town  with  but  a  single  industry,  —  a 
nation  with  no  variety  of  employments,  —  a  world 
perfectly  homogeneous. 

But  it  may  be  said.  Does  this  apply  to  moral  quali- 
ties ?  Can  man  be  content  with  any  but  the  highest 
for  himself  or  for  those  he  loves  ?  No.  If  a  man  is 
discontented  with  that  to  which  he  has  attained,  it  is 
because  he  lias  not  answered  God's  purpose ;  but  as 
for  his  judgment  on  his  neighbors  it  has  not  much 
value.  We  all  admit  that  it  is  not  possible  for  every 
man  to  have  all  the  moral  qualities  in  an  equal  degree. 
The  important  thing  in  life  is  that  each  man  should 
hQ  faithful  in  the  employment  of  those  which  he  has. 
It  is  with  individuals  as  with  nations.  It  was  not 
necessary  that  David  should  have  the  quality  of  mercy 
largely  developed,  or  that  Rebecca  should  understand 
the  importance  of  truth.  The  important  thing  was 
that  David  should  be  loyal  to  Him  who  made  him 
a  king,  and  that  Rebecca  should  save  the  timid  boy 
with  whom  was  the  promise  of  the  covenant.     Do  not 


20  THE  POTTER'S   WHEEL. 

misunderstand  me.  I  do  not  say  that,  if  these  truths 
had  been  revealed  to  them,  they  would  not  have  been 
as  morally  bound  to  observe  them  as  we  are ;  I  only 
say  that  there  was  no  need  that  they  should  have 
been  revealed.  Indeed,  we  may  go  farther,  and  say 
that  they  could  not  be  revealed.  We  say  that  we 
cannot  and  God  ought  not  to  be  content  with  any- 
thing less  than  the  best.  But  what  is  best  ?  Is  it 
best  that  all  the  clay  in  the  world  should  be  turned 
into  Dresden  china  ?  By  no  means.  What  is  best 
is  that  there  should  be  a  great  variety  fitted  for  dif- 
ferent purposes.  Tliere  are  certain  virtues  which 
would  be  out  of  place  in  certain  conditions  of  civiliza- 
tion, —  that  is,  in  certain  individuals.  Refined  sensi- 
bility would  be  as  embarrassing  to  a  frontiersman  as 
a  carriage  hung  on  delicate  springs.  What  is  needed 
is  that  he  should  be  brave  and  just.  We  say  that  it 
is  not  as  high  a  type  as  the  courteous  gentleman  who 
would  shrink  from  profanity  as  from  physical  pollu- 
tion. But  the  test  is  to  be  found  not  in  the  quality 
of  the  virtue,  but  in  the  faithfulness  with  which  it  is 
used.  Two  things  then  ought  to  be  learned  from  a 
consideration  of  the  clay  in  the  potter's  house.  The 
first  is,  that  God  is  dealing  with  men  as  individuals 
indeed,  yet  not  as  isolated  beings,  but  as  members 
of  a  great  family.  It  is  to  the  advantage  of  the  fam- 
ily that  they  should  differ,  and  it  is  to  their  own  ad- 
vantage too.    This  difference  in  the  clay,  of  which  we 


THE  POTTER'S   WHEEL.  21 

have  many  theories,  such  as  the  law  of  heredity,  or 
the  influence  of  environment,  are  the  conditions  which 
God  himself  has  ordained.  That  is  the  great  mystery 
of  creation,  that  God  should  embody  himself  in  such 
material.  But  it  is  a  mystery  which  has  nothing  dis- 
couraging about  it  until  we  separate  it  from  God. 
All  creation  is  self-limitation.  The  artist  has  an 
emotion,  then  a  thought,  then  a  will  to  embody  that 
thought,  but  in  the  embodiment  he  has  limited  him- 
self, he  has  submitted  to  certain  conditions.  So  does 
God.  He  can  work,  we  may  reverently  say,  only 
under  those  conditions.  But  we  must  not  forget  that 
they  are  of  liis  own  creation.  He  is  working  in  clay. 
He  must  make  what  the  clay  is  capable  of  expressing, 
only  there  is  no  clay  which  is  not  capable  on  a  higher 
or  lower  plane,  of  being  conformed  to  the  image  of 
Jesus  Christ,  —  no  man  incapable  of  being  filled  with 
the  spirit  of  God's  Son,  and  expressing  that  spirit 
according  to  his  peculiar  capacity  and  subject  to  the 
conditions  of  the  time  in  which  he  lives. 

The  second  thing  which  we  see  in  the  potter's  house 
is  the  wheel.  On  it  the  lump  is  placed,  and  the  un- 
seen foot  presses  the  treadle,  and  the  wheel  revolves. 
About  the  wheel,  too,  men  have  formed  a  theory. 
First  they  began  with  the  clay,  —  the  substance  of 
human  nature.  And  there  was  evolved  many  a  phi- 
losophy.    But  what  is  its  value  to-day  ?     The  study 


22  THE   POTTER'S    WHEEL. 

of  metaphysics  is  greatly  discredited.  It  has  pro- 
duced the  spirit  of  agnosticism.  Men,  weary  with 
speculations  which  lead  to  nothing,  have  said  there 
is  nothing  to  be  known  of  the  constitution  of  the 
clay  nor  the  mind  of  the  worker.  And  they  are 
right :  there  is  nothing  to  be  known  by  the  exclu- 
sive study  of  the  human  mind.  And  so  they  have 
turned  to  the  study  of  the  revolutions  of  the  wheel. 
Ten  years  ago  it  seemed  as  if  the  study  of  nature 
would  lead  to  such  definite  answers  to  the  problem 
of  life  that  the  world  was  full  of  prophecies  as  to 
what  the  reorganized  society  would  be  like  in  the 
liglit  of  the  new  knowledge.  The  world  was  as  full 
of  hope,  as  sure  of  being  delivered  from  the  bondage 
of  superstition,  as  it  was  in  the  first  flush  of  the 
French  Revolution.  The  revolving  plane  of  nature, 
men  cried,  will  give  us  the  solution,  not  only  of  man's 
origin,  but  also  of  his  destiny.  Look  at  what  can  be 
seen,  said  the  student  of  nature,  instead  of  specu- 
lating upon  what  cannot  be  seen.  The  clay  is  on 
the  wheel,  and  it  turns  and  turns,  and  slackens  not 
its  speed,  still  less  stops  in  answer  to  curses  or 
groans.  If  you  ask  whence  came  the  clay,  the  an- 
swer is  the  wheel  made  it.  If  men  asked  how  it 
took  forms  of  beauty,  the  answer  was  given  by  point- 
ing out  that,  if  the  wheel  went  slower  by  one  revo- 
lution in  a  thousand  years,  the  thing  of  beauty  would 
be  marred ;    that  if  it    increased   its   speed  but   the 


THE  POTTER'S   WHEEL.  23 

fraction  of  a  second,  the  clay  would  be  destroyed. 
The  wheel  never  changes.  Now  its  motion  soothes 
like  the  lullaby  of  an  infant,  soon  it  will  be  like  the 
dance  of  the  wedding  guests,  the  passionate  rush  of 
youth  will  follow,  and  then  the  slow  sinking  of  old 
age.  One  man  cries,  It  is  good  to  be  alive,  and  an- 
other moans  for  rest.  But  these  are  only  phases 
of  the  clay ;  the  wheel  remains  unchanged  and 
un^ihangeable. 

This  theory  had  an  array  of  facts  few  could  dis- 
cover, but  which  every  man  could  appreciate  as  soon 
as  they  were  explained  to  him.  For  a  while,  men 
stood  and  gazed  in  wonder.  Some  were  fascinated 
by  the  sight  of  things  as  old  as  the  world,  but  which 
had  never  been  noticed  before,  and  found  their  joy  in 
looking.  Others  boasted  of  the  overthrow  of  faith. 
Some  looked  on  with  unspeakable  anguish  at  the  de- 
struction of  man's  noblest  hopes.  Well,  how  does  the 
case  stand  to-day  ?  Men  have  roused  themselves,  and 
asked  at  length,  What  moves  the  wheel  ?  Such  a  sim- 
ple, natural  question  !  But  no  one  can  answer  it. 
"  We  do  not  know,"  say  the  wisest  students  of  nature. 
"Every  increase  of  knowledge  only  serves  to  widen 
the  surrounding  abyss  of  nescience.  And  what  is 
more,  nothing  can  ever  be  known  of  that  secret,  for 
we  have  learned  enough  of  nature  to  know  that  no 
study  of  it  will  tell  us  any  of  those  things  which 
we  would  like  to  know."     The  study  of  the  clay  was 


24  THE   POTTER'S    WHEEL. 

formulated  in  metaphysics,  and  led  to  agnosticism. 
The  study  of  the  wheel  has  done  the  same.  There 
are,  however,  certain  impressions  which  the  mind 
has  received  from  the  study  of  nature  which  nothing 
will  ever  shake.  The  first  is  the  universality  of  law, 
—  that  nothing  happens  anywhere  except  in  accord- 
ance with  invariable  rules,  which  are  never  changed. 
The  baby  cries  for  the  moon,  but  the  moon  sails  on 
regardless  of  its  puny  rage.  The  boy  chafes  at  the 
shortness  of  his  holiday,  but  the  sun  goes  down  at 
its  appointed  time.  The  thief  utters  a  charm  to 
cloud  the  night,  but  moon  and  stars  shine  brilliantly. 
Old  age  steals  on,  and  sudden  death  appears,  and 
nothing  you  or  I  can  do  will  change  the  relentless 
turning  of  the  wheel.  To-day,  the  sunlight  strikes 
on  us  as  the  wheel  turns  by  an  open  window ;  to- 
morrow, the  darkness  covers  us  as  the  wheel  goes 
through  the  shadow.  No  need  to  dwell  on  it.  Life 
is  governed  by  unchanging  and  unchangeable  law. 
That  is  the  one  thing  we  have  learned  from  the 
study  of  nature,  and  almost  the  only  thing  we  have 
learned  which  throws  any  light  on  the  great  problem 
which  perplexes  us. 

Is  this  all  that  can  be  learned  from  the  potter's 
house  ?  So  many  tell  us,  but  as  we  turn  away  there 
comes,  we  cannot  tell  how,  a  feeling  that  we  have  not 
seen  all.  And  to  me  that  is  after  all  the  greatest 
mystery  of  life.     How  did  it  ever  come  to  pass  that 


THE  POTTER'S   WHEEL,  25 

man  should  dream  that  there  is  more  to  be  known 
than  can  be  seen  ?  How  did  he  ever  imagine,  when 
everything  that  he  sees  is  against  it,  that  he  should 
live  when  he  was  dead  ?  That  is  the  mystery. 
From  what  does  it  arise  ?  How  is  it  that  I,  a  crea- 
ture of  a  moment,  without  power,  an  infinitesimal 
particle  in  the  universe,  should  come  to  believe  that 
this  is  not  the  whole  story  of  my  life,  but  that 
there  is  a  hand  upon  me  fashioning  me  and  mould- 
ing me,  making  me  walk  in  the  paths  which  I  would 
not,  and  comforting  me,  and  filling  me  with  hope  ? 
It  is  because  of  something  else  which  is  in  the  pot- 
ter's house.  That  which  the  prophet  saw  first  of 
all :  "  1  saw  the  potter  work  a  work  on  the  wheels.'* 

He  saw  what  we  may  see,  the  potter  place  a  lump 
upon  the  wheel  and  the  wheel  revolve ;  he  saw  the 
hands  clasp  it,  and  the  clay  begin  to  move.  As  we 
look  to-day  at  such  a  sight,  it  seems  as  if  the  clay 
were  doing  all,  and  the  potter's  hand  only  followed  its 
motion.  If,  however,  we  look  more  closely,  we  shall 
see  that  it  is  not  the  clay  which  works.  There  are 
two  forces  at  work  upon  it ;  the  one  is  the  revolv- 
ing tvheel,  and  the  other  is  the  moulding  hand.  The 
force  of  the  wheel  alone  would  scatter  the  clay,  the 
power  of  the  hand  alone  would  crush  it.  Its  form  is 
the  resultant  of  these  two  forces.  The  wheel  makes 
the  conditions  under  which  the  hand  can  best  work. 


26  THE   POTTER'S    WHEEL. 

The  hand  does  not  move  and  go  behind  the  lump,  as 
it  seems.  The  hand  remains  still,  the  eye  is  on  the 
clay,  and  when  the  position  is  right  it  is  touched,  and 
so  formed.  He  lays  his  hand  upon  it,  and  we  hold  our 
breath.  Surely  he  will  crush  it !  No,  the  weight  is 
just  enough  to  cause  the  shapeless  mass  to  bosom  out 
and  embody  the  line  of  beauty.  He  touches  it  with 
his  finger,  and,  as  if  in  answer  to  a  fairy's  wand,  it 
rises  into  the  air,  and  rises  more,  till  it  seems  as  if  it 
were  about  to  snap  and  break  from  the  base.  But  it 
does  not.  It  has  stopped  as  if  by  enchantment,  and  we 
see  that  a  slender  neck  has  been  formed,  round  which 
a  garland  shall  twine  by  and  by.  It  is  not  finished 
yet.  The  finger  goes  in,  and  then  the  hand,  and  the 
small  vessel  expands  until  through  the  thin  wall  we 
see  the  nimble  fingers  of  the  potter  working  through 
the  darkness  that  light  may  shine  through  the  work 
of  his  hands.  And  now  the  hand  is  drawn  out,  and 
the  slender  neck  contracts  again  as  the  fingers  pass, 
and  the  vase  is  almost  done.  The  wheel  runs  slow, 
and  the  potter  cuts  with  his  sharp  knife  the  thing  of 
beauty  from  the  unused  clay,  smiles,  and  sighs  as  he 
lays  it  away,  —  smiles  to  see  this  new  thing  of  beauty, 
but  sighs  to  think  of  the  danger  of  its  breaking  in 
the  furnace  which  must  try  it. 

That  too  the  prophet  saw,  as  we  may.  The  vase 
so  delicate  and  tender  must  be  walled  up  .and  left  to 
show  whether  it  can  bear  the  strain  and  abide  in  the 


THE   POTTER'S    WHEEL.  27 

house  forever,  or  whether  it  will  crack  or  twist,  and 
defeat  the  work  wrought  on  the  wheels. 

It  is  on  that  that  our  eyes  must  be  fixed  if  we 
would  gain  comfort  and  hope.  It  is  on  that  that  the 
eyes  of  thoughtful  men  must  be  fixed  before  we  can 
have  a  philosophy  of  life.  The  study  of  the  clay 
will  show  us  only  the  limitations  of  the  clay.  The 
study  of  the  wheel  will  teach  us  nothing  but  the  con- 
ditions under  which  the  clay  is  moulded.  The  con- 
templation of  the  hand  alone  will  yield  nothing  but 
unsubstantial  dreams.  The  result  of  the  first  has 
been  formulated  in  philosophy,  of  the  second  in 
science,  of  the  third  in  theology.  The  first  and  the 
third  have  for  the  moment  lost  much  of  their  former 
interest.  The  day  is  coming  when  the  other  shall 
lose  interest  too.  Should  there  ever  be  a  complete 
philosophy  of  life,  it  must  be  from  the  combination  of 
what  each  thing  in  the  potter's  house  has  to  teach  us. 
The  clay  we  can  analyze.  The  wheel  we  can  watch. 
How  can  we  learn  from  the  hand  ?  Only  by  taking  the 
testimony  which  the  clay  itself  bears  to  its  own  expe- 
rience, only  by  noting  the  effects  produced  on  the  hu- 
man soul  by  the  awful,  mysterious  experiences  of  life. 
The  soul  believes  that  it  is  being  moulded  by  a  hand, 
—  believes  it  so  strongly  that  there  are  times  when 
it  is  tempted  to  deny  that  there  are  any  limitations 
or  any  laws  by  which  the  work  is  being  done.     If  we 


28  THE   POTTER'S    WHEEL. 

look  at  any  soul  as  it  passes  through  life,  we  see  that 
no  other  explanation  of  that  which  comes  to  it  will 
satisfy  the  mind  which  asks  for  a  reason  and  judges 
of  the  value  of  the  answer.  The  limitations  of  your 
life  and  mine  were  fixed  long  before  we  saw  the  light. 
We  have  learned  that  to  begin  with.  The  experiences 
which  come  to  you  and  me  are  not  made  to  break 
in  upon  the  course  of  this  world,  violating  the  law 
which  governs  life.  Birth  and  death,  joy  and  sorrow, 
unbounded  hope  and  overwhelming  disappointment, 
strength  and  sickness,  —  these  are  the  things  which 
come  to  all,  the  good  and  the  bad  alike.  They  come 
by  rule.  There  is  an  undeviating  law  which  governs 
life.  That  too  we  have  learned.  Where  then  is 
Providence  ?  That  is  to  be  seen  in  tlie  moulding  of 
our  life.  God's  hand  is  on  us,  and  in  the  turn  of  the 
wheel  which  brings  joy  he  lifts  us  up,  and  in  the  turn 
which  brings  calamity  he  moulds  us  for  some  use. 

That  is  what  men  forget.  The  race  has  always 
believed  that  there  was  overruling,  but  supposed  that 
the  proof  of  it  was  to  be  found  in  the  events  of  life, 
and  then  was  dumfounded  when  these  events  ju-ovcd 
different  from  what  had  been  expected.  It  is  not  in 
the  events,  but  in  the  resnlt  of  them,  that  we  shall  find 
the  proof  of  the  hand  of  God.  That  thought  fi-ees  us 
at  once  from  the  deadness  of  spirit  which  comes  with 
the  knowledge  of  inexorable  law.  If  there  be  a  hand 
fashioninir,  we  mav  be  sure  that  it  chose  the  clay  to 


THE   POTTER'S    WHEEL.  29 

make  that  which  it  knew  the  clay  could  become. 
If  there  is  a  hand  moulding  our  souls,  it  must  be  that 
these  laws  were  prepared  by  it  because  He  knew  that 
no  condition  which  those  laws  produce  is  unfavorable 
to  the  development  of  the  life  which  He  loves.  And 
more  than  that :  if  there  be  laws  for  the  clay  and  laws 
for  the  wheel,  there  are  likewise,  we  may  be  sure, 
laws  for  the  moulding  hand  as  well.  What  are  these 
laws  ?  That  we  do  not  know,  and  that  is  why  there 
is  so  much  confusion  and  fear.  It  is  that  confusion 
which  gives  the  power  to  attacks  on  religion,  and 
enables  the  ''  religious  novel "  to  sell.  Men  hope  to 
have  the  confusion  cleared  away,  and  are  ready  to  ac- 
cept any  theory  which  seems  to  be  simple.  Now  the 
simplest  of  all  is  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  provi- 
dence, that  "  miracle  is  the  child  of  mendacity."  But 
it  is  too  simple.  Suppose  there  are  laws  of  the  hand  ; 
suppose  there  are  laws  of  the  spirit;  then  it  w^ould  be 
strange  indeed  if  they  did  not  make  themselves  mani- 
fest in  human  life.  There  are  laws  of  matter,  and 
there  are  laws  of  mind.  Before  mind  appeared,  this 
world  was  one  thing  and  that  the  simple  expression  of 
those  laws.  But  when  mind  appeared,  it  became 
another  thing,  for  the  laws  of  mind  manifested  them- 
selves in  the  material  w^orld.  Yet,  strictly  speaking, 
each  such  manifestation  was  a  miracle,  that  is,  the 
sign  of  the  operation  of  a  higher  force  than  was  at 
work  in  the  material  itself.     Agriculture  and  civiliza- 


30  THE   POTTER'S   WHEEL. 

tion  are  perpetual  miracles ;  that  is,  they  are  effects 
produced  by  the  action  of  laws  which  do  not  reside  in 
the  material  wliich  they  affect.  The  building  of  a 
house  is  a  miracle,  and  so  is  the  warming  and  the 
lighting  of  it.  Nature  would  never  have  done  the  one 
or  the  other.  The  natural  action  of  the  laws  of  matter 
would  never  have  produced  these  results.  We  are 
so  familiar  with  these  results  that  we  do  not  consider 
how  they  arose,  yet  the  key  to  the  mystery  is  to  be 
found  there.  Now,  if  there  are  laws  of  the  spirit, 
should  we  not  expect  spiritual  manifestations  in  the 
intellectual  and  material  life  ?  The  difficulty  here 
lies  in  the  fact  that  we  have  so  little  familiarity  with 
the  spiritual  life  that,  when  we  hear  of  such  things, 
we  say  it  is  contrary  to  all  experience.  Natqre  would 
never  have  done  so.  Mind  would  never  have  done  so. 
Both  are  true.  But  if  neither  the  material  nor  the 
intellectual  are  the  highest  manifestations  of  life,  if 
the  moral  and  spiritual  be  higher,  and  we  have  but 
slight  experience  of  their  power,  is  it  an  answer 
to  say  such  and  such  things  are  contrary  to  expe- 
rience ?  Whose  experience  ?  The  experience  of 
Jesus  ?  Are  we  sure  that  we  know  the  law  of  the  life 
of  Jesus?  If  not,  it  is  neither  philosophical  nor  scien- 
tific to  assume  that  we  are  in  a  position  to  judge  of 
what  its  manifestations  ought  to  be. 

I  mention  this,  not  to  enter  into  any  discussion  of 


THE   POTTER'S    WHEEL.  31 

the  so  called  historical  miracles,  hut  simply  to  point 
out  that  the  great  discovery  of  the  universality  of 
law  does  not  in  any  way  overthrow  the  belief  in  a 
never  failing  Providence,  nor  affect  what  we  some- 
times unhappily  name  "  special  providences." 

Before  we  end,  there  is  one  thing  more  to  be  said, 
and  that  is,  that  the  parable  is  incomplete  in  one  re- 
spect. There  are  times  when  we  can  speak  of  human- 
ity as  clay  in  the  hands  of  the  potter,  but  we  all  know 
that  this  human  clay  has  the  power  of  resistance.  It 
can  tear  itself  from  the  moulding  hand,  it  can  fatten 
itself  in  sin,  so  as  to  frustrate  the  work  on  the  wheels. 
It  can  fail  to  co-operate  with  the  potter,  and  so, 
though  it  take  a  pleasing  form  for  a  moment,  be  ru- 
ined in  the  furnace  which  shall  try  every  man  of  what 
sort  he  is.  So  the  house  of  the  potter  has  an  exhor- 
tation for  us,  as  well  as  an  object  lesson.  What  it  is 
saying  to  every  man  is.  Do  not  resist,  but  co-operate. 

Look  at  the  clay :  it  is  yourself,  it  has  its  limita- 
tions. Two  things  are  before  you  when  tliat  truth 
has  entered  into  your  soul.  You  may  despair  ;  you 
may  throw  away  your  life  because  it  is  physically, 
mentally,  or  morally  incomplete,  or  marred.  Or  you 
may  submit.  You  may  learn  to  be  content ;  you  may 
rise  to  thank  God  that  you  are  what  you  are.  You 
may  be  made  useful,  and  in  the  eyes  of  the  Master 
beautiful,  because  expressing  the  love  of  God. 


32  THE  POTTER'S   WHEEL. 

Look  on  the  wheel.  It  is  the  revolving  life,  with 
all  its  manifold  experiences.  They  may  be  so  joyous 
that  we  forget  that  we  are  here  for  a  purpose,  and  pass 
the  time  in  the  enjoyment  of  things  which  unfit  us  for 
beauty  or  power.  They  may  be  hard  and  bitter,  and 
you  may  upbraid  God.  You  may  say,  I  have  been 
a  religious  man,  and  look  at  me,  old  and  poor  and 
sad !  We  may  cry  out,  not  "  What  advantage  hath 
the  Jew?"  but  "What  advantage  hath  the  Christian?" 
We  may  think  of  God  as  having  changed  the  coui-se  of 
the  world  to  afflict  us,  or  we  may  curse  him  because  he 
did  not  change  it  and  so  save  us  from  this  cross.  But 
there  is  another  possibility,  and  that  is  to  say,  "  Shall 
not  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth  do  right?"  Are  not 
these  laws,  which  He  established  and  which  now  bear 
heavy  on  me,  for  a  purpose  ?  We  may  go  farther, 
and  say,  "  The  consolations  of  God  are  not  small 
with  us."  We  may  hear  the  voice  of  the  Apostle 
saying,  "  My  brethren,  think  it  not  strange  concern- 
ing the  fiery  trial  as  if  some  strange  thing  happened  to 
you  ;  there  hath  no  trial  taken  you  but  such  as  is  com- 
mon to  man."  What  you  suffer  untold  millions  have 
suffered,  and  many  shall  suffer  before  God's  work  is 
done.  Jesus  and  the  two  thieves  suffered  alike,  but 
Jesus  felt  the  hand  of  the  Father  on  him,  and  so  at 
last  did  one  of  the  thieves,  and  that  knowledge  is  the 
gateway  to  Paradise  ;  for  the  consciousness  of  son- 
ship  is  the  object  of  life. 


THE   POTTER'S    WHEEL.  33 

He  wrought  a  work  on  the  wheels.  Let  nothing 
shake  that  faith.  Submit  your  souls  to  God.  Do 
not  ask  Him  to  make  you  great,  only  to  make  you 
useful.  Do  not  ask  Him  to  change  the  course  of  this 
world  that  you  may  be  happy,  but  only  that  you  may 
not  be  confounded. 

The  hand  of  the  potter  is  on  your  life,  moulding 
it  in  the  midst  of  manifold  experiences.  It  is  the 
hand  of  your  Father,  —  the  same  hand  which  was  on 
Jesus,  and  moulded  that  sweet  Jewish  boy  into  the 
perfect  manifestation  of  His  own  glory.  Remember 
that,  and  He  will  make  you  a  thing  of  beauty,  fit  for 
the  Master's  use. 


III. 

THE   KILLING  OF  THE   SON. 

Hear  another  parable  :  There  was  a  certain  householder^ 
which  planted  a  vineyard^  and  hedged  it  round  about,  and 
digged  a  winepress  iii  it,  and  built  a  tower,  and  let  it  out 
to  husbandmen,  and  went  into  a  far  country.  And  when 
the  time  of  the  fruit  drew  near,  he  sent  his  servants  to  the 
husbandmen,  that  they  might  receive  the  fruits  of  it.  And 
the  husbandmen  took  his  servcuits,  and  beat  one,  and  killed 
another,  and  stoned  another.  Again,  he  sent  other  servants 
more  than  the  first ;  and  they  did  unto  them  likeivise. 
But  last  of  all  he  sent  luito  them  his  son,  saying.  They 
IV ill  reverence  viy  son.  But  when  the  husbandmen  saw 
the  S071,  they  said  among  themselves.  This  is  the  heir ; 
come,  let  us  kill  him,  and  let  us  seize  on  his  inheritance. 
And  they  caught  him,  and  cast  him  out  of  the  vineyard, 
and  slew  him.  —  St.  Mattheav,  xxi,  33-39. 

nPHE  first  thing  that  strikes  us,  I  think,  in  reading 
^  this  parable,  is  the  great  liberality  of  the  house- 
holder. It  is  evident  that  that  was  intended  to  catch 
our  notice ;  for  we  are  not  simply  told  that  there  was 
a  certain  householder  which  had  a  vineyard  wliich  he 
let  out  to  husbandmen,  but  we  are  told  all  that  he  did 
for  it.     He  digged  a  winepress,  and  he  built  a  hedge 


THE   KILLING    OF   THE   SON.  35 

about  it ;  he  arranged  it  in  every  way  so  that  the 
work  might  be  easily  and  profitably  done,  and  then, 
naturally,  he  looked  to  receive  the  fruits  of  it. 

And  the  second  thing,  I  think,  that  we  note,  is  the 
variety  of  the  appeals  that  are  made.  Again  and 
again  messengers  are  sent  to  ask  for  the  fruit  of  the 
vineyard,  that  belonged  to  the  lord  thereof ;  and  not- 
withstanding the  fact  that  the  first  servants  were 
maltreated,  other  servants  are  sent,  more  (that  is, 
more  honorable)  than  the  first,  and  they  received  the 
same  treatment.  And  then  he  only  makes  one  more 
appeal,  saying,  "  I  will  send  my  son ;  surely  they  will 
reverence  him  when  they  see  him."  And  he  sent  his 
son.  So  that  the  second  thing,  I  say,  that  we  note  in 
this  passage  is  the  patience  of  the  householder,  and 
the  continuousness  of  the  appeal  that  was  made  to 
these  wicked  men. 

Let  us  look  at  it  this  morning,  and  see  what  story 
it  has  to  tell  to  you  and  me,  —  what  we  may  learn 
from  it  that  will  make  us  better  men  and  women. 

In  the  first  place,  is  not  our  position  very  much 
like  that  of  the  men  to  whom  the  vineyard  was  let? 
Has  not  much  been  done  for  you  and  me,  my  friends, 
so  that  God  has  a  right  to  expect  a  return  from  us  ? 
Any  one  of  us,  I  think,  that  will  look  back  over  his 
life,  will  be  inclined  to  feel  that  a  vast  deal  of  his  life 
was  a  thing  which  he  had  no  hand  in  shaping.  The 
great  things  that  have  come  to  you  and  me  have  come, 


36  THE  KILLING   OF   THE   SON. 

as  we  are  sometimes  tempted  to  say,  by  accident.  At 
any  rate,  however  we  may  explain  it,  the  great  things, 
the  most  important  things,  are  things  that  were  set- 
tled by  "  some  Power  not  ourselves."  We  did  not 
choose,  I  take  it,  where  we  would  go  to  school.  We 
did  not  choose  where  we  would  go  to  college.  We 
did  not  choose  what  particular  house  we  would  enter 
into  business  with.  All  those  things  were  arranged 
without  our  knowledge  or  consent,  and  the  blessings 
that  have  accrued  from  those  first  steps  in  life  have 
come  without  our  foresight.  So  that  every  one  of  us 
might  say,  as  St.  Paul  did,  "  What  hast  thou  that 
thou  didst  not  receive  ? " 

God,  if  there  be  a  God,  has  done  great  things  for 
you  and  me,  every  one  of  us.  The  most  unfortunate, 
the  most  sorrowful,  the  least  successful  of  any  one  of 
us  here  to-day,  —  God  has  been  preparing  a  place  for 
that  soul  to  work  that  it  might  develop  itself ;  and  he 
has  looked  to  every  one  of  us  here  for  fruit. 

And,  again,  we  are  like  the  men  in  the  parable,  in- 
asmuch as  the  appeals  that  have  been  made  to  us  have 
been  various  and  continuous.  If  we  look  into  our  own 
lives  and  consider  what  God  had  a  right  to  expect  of 
us,  and  what  the  return  is  that  we  have  made,  I  think 
every  one  of  us  must  be  impressed  with  the  patience 
of  the  Divine  Father.  Look  at  the  appeals  that  have 
come  tons, —  God's  servants  that  He  has  sent  to  ask 
for  the  fruit  of  the  vineyard .    Conscience,  —  which  one 


THE   KILLING    OF   THE   SON.  S7 

of  us  has  not  had  that  messenger  knock  at  the  gate, 
and,  being  entered,  say  to  us,  Thus  and  thus  hast  thou 
done  that  was  wrong.  Which  of  us  has  not  gone  and 
looked  over  the  hedge  of  the  vineyard  to  see  if  the 
master  was  coming  ?  Who  here,  even  as  a  little  child, 
has  not  known  the  sudden  pang,  the  unexpected  sick- 
ness, that  has  brought  with  it  the  awful  dread  of  the 
discovery  of  that  which  neither  father  nor  mother 
knew?  What  boy  has  not  seen  another  one  speak- 
ing to  the  master,  and  known  what  it  was  to  tremble 
lest  that  boy  might  tell  all  that  he  knew?  Who 
here  has  not  known  the  coming  of  conscience,  with 
its  awful  warning,  with  its  solemn  demand  for  the 
fruit  of  that  which  God  has  given  us,  and  which 
God  expects  every  one  of  us  to  render? 

No  need  to  dwell  upon  it.  That  is  one  of  the  fun- 
damental ethical  instincts  there  is  no  need  to  argue 
about.  Tlie  instant  it  is  mentioned,  every  one  of  us 
can  look  back  over  the  path  we  have  come  and  see, 
perhaps  in  the  past  week,  or  month,  or  year,  or  as 
we  glance  down  the  hill  that  we  have  climbed,  the 
little  boy  or  the  little  girl  at  the  bottom  of  it,  fearing 
because  of  sin. 

And  there  are  other  messengers  that  have  come  to 
us.  Joy,  that  has  come  to  our  hearts,  saying.  Now 
render  thanks  to  God  for  all  that  He  has  done  for  you. 
The  blessings  that  He  has  given  you,  the  joys  that  He 
has  poured  out  upon  you,  the  great  opportunities  that 


38  THE   KILLING   OF  THE   SON. 

He  has  opened  to  you,  —  have  you  been  thankful  for 
them  ?  Joy  is  a  messenger  that  God  sends,  and  says. 
Give  me  the  fruit  of  my  vineyard. 

Or  there  is  another  that  comes.  Opportunity  itself, 
the  opening  up  of  a  larger  possibility  for  serving  God 
and  employing  the  full  activities  of  our  life.  Who 
has  not  thrilled  to  that  ?  Who  has  not  known  what 
it  was  suddenly  to  have  the  door  thrown  open  and  a 
new  vista  opened  for  the  possibility  of  work,  for  self- 
improvement,  for  doing  good  to  others,  and  has  not 
felt  in  that  moment  that  he  was  near  to  God,  that 
God  is  interested  in  him  and  has  seen  fit  to  send  out 
liis  messenger  to  call  him,  even  him,  to  undertake  the 
great  and  splendid  work  of  life  ? 

We  may  not  dwell  upon  it  further.  Every  one  of 
us  can  look  back  over  his  life  and  find  that  again  and 
again  messengers  have  come,  the  messenger  of  con- 
science, the  messenger  of  joy,  the  messenger  of  op- 
portunity, every  one  of  them  saying.  Render  me  the 
fruit  of  the  vineyard. 

But  we  are  told  that  he  sent  another  delegation, 
more  honorable  than  those  that  had  gone  before.  Is 
there  anything  in  our  lives  that  accords  with  that  ? 
I  take  it  yes.  All  the  art  that  you  and  I  have  been 
})rivileged  to  gaze  upon  has  been  a  messenger,  saying 
to  us.  Render  to  God  the  fruit  of  the  vineyard ;  come 
out  into  this  larger  life  of  beauty  that  God  has  ere- 


THE  KILLING   OF   THE   SON.  39 

ated,  and  acknowledge  Him  as  the  glory  of  the  world. 
All  the  music  that  you  and  I  have  heard  that  was 
noble  and  true  has  been  another  of  God's  messen- 
gers, saying  to  every  one  of  us,  Come  into  the  glory 
of  God's  harmony,  that  your  life  may  no  longer  be 
full  of  discord,  but  full  of  the  peace  of  God  that 
passeth  understanding.  All  the  great  books  that 
have  come  trooping  into  your  life  and  mine  have 
come  as  God's  messengers,  calling  us  to  a  deeper 
knowledge,  to  a  larger  outlook,  to  a  more  splendid, 
worthy  life. 

Again,  we  may  not  dwell  upon  it,  because  it  would 
simply  expand  itself  into  all  the  agencies  of  educa- 
tion, and  development,  and  improvement,  that  you 
and  I  have  come  under  the  influence  of.  The  mes- 
senger of  prosperity  that  has  brought  us  new  wealth, 
with  its  opportunities  for  generosity  and  mutual  help- 
fulness, —  the  messengers  of  books,  the  messengers  of 
music,  the  messengers  of  art,  —  who  does  not  know 
them?  All  God's  great  works  that  were  before  you 
and  me  have  come  trooping  into  our  lives,  every  one 
saying,  some  in  a  hard  and  uncompromising  voice. 
Pay  the  fruit  of  the  vineyard,  —  some  stretching  out 
their  hands  with  a  benign  look,  saying,  Render  to  the 
Lord  the  fruit  of  his  vineyard. 

0  the  patience  of  God !  The  multitude  of  interests 
that  God  has  sent  into  our  lives!  Perchance  one  of 
them  will  bring  back  to  God  the  fruit  of  his  vineyard. 


40  THE  KILLING   OF   THE   SON. 

Surely  one  of  the  mistakes,  as  it  seems  to  me,  which 
we  make  in  our  efforts  to  help  one  another,  the  mis- 
take the  parent  makes,  the  mistake  the  teacher  makes, 
the  mistake  the  preacher  makes,  is  this,  that  we  sup- 
pose the  particular  thing  that  has  influenced  us  will 
inevitably  influence  our  child,  pupil,  or  parishioner. 
That  is  a  great  mistake.  God  has  great  troops  of 
messengers,  and  the  one  that  has  come  to  me  may 
never  come  to  you. 

What  is  the  secret,  then,  by  which  we  shall  under- 
stand God's  dealing  with  us  ?  What  is  the  meaning 
of  it  ?  Why  is  it  that  the  messenger  that  appealed  to 
me,  and  caused  me  to  fall  down  in  utter  abasement  of 
soul  and  ask  God  for  one  more  trial  before  I  was  called 
to  my  final  account,  —  why  is  it,  my  friends,  that  that 
same  messenger  does  not  take  hold  of  your  soul  and 
bring  it  home  to  God  ?  It  is  because,  I  think,  that 
only  that  messenger  can  come  with  his  message  to 
you  or  me  who  is  like  you  or  me.  Art  will  not  ap- 
peal to  this  man,  because  there  is  nothing  artistic  in 
his  nature  ;  or,  at  any  rate,  it  lies  there  latent,  buried 
so  deep  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  particular  work 
of  art  to  call  it  forth.  Another  man  cannot  hear  the 
call  that  comes  in  strains  of  music.  Another  man 
cannot  hear  the  call  that  comes  in  prosperity  or  new 
opportunity.  Every  one  of  us  is  different,  and  there- 
lore  it  is  that  God  is  jiouring  out  the  great  multitude 
of  his  messengers  to  his  people  that  he  loves,  in  the 


THE   KILLING    OF   THE   SON.  41 

hope  that  some  one  messenger  will  find  a  likeness  in 
each  one  of  his  children  that  will  call  that  child  home 
bearing  his  sheaves  with  him. 

And  is  that  all  ?  No,  the  most  important  comes 
last.  Last  of  all  he  sent  unto  them  his  son,  saying, 
Surely  they  will  reverence  my  son.  Now  of  course, 
the  reason  that  the  householder  said.  Surely  they  will 
reverence  my  son  was  not  simply  because  of  his  love 
of  the  son,  his  recognition  of  the  beauty  of  the  son's 
face,  his  knowledge  of  the  graciousness  of  the  son's 
voice,  his  enjoyment  of  the  glory  of  the  son's  pres- 
ence. All  that  is  true.  But  we  dwell  too  much  upon 
it.  There  is  another  side  to  it.  That  *'  Surely  they 
will  reverence  my  son  "  was  called  forth  by  the  knowl- 
edge that  deep  down  in  every  one  of  those  to  whom 
the  householder  sent  w^as  the  likeness  of  the  son. 

Art  does  not  appeal  to  you,  music  does  not  appeal 
to  you,  the  great  intellectual  works  of  the  world  do 
not  appeal  to  you.  What,  then,  is  there  in  common 
between  every  one  of  us  gathered  here  to-day,  with  all 
our  infinite  variety  ?  It  is  the  likeness  to  the  Son  of 
the  living  God.  It  is  the  essential  divinity  in  every 
poor  sinner  on  this  earth  to-day.  That  is  the  one 
thing  that  God  makes  his  final  appeal  to,  probing 
deeper  and  deeper  into  every  life,  until  God's  last 
appeal  to  the  soul  stands  forth.  God  says,  "  Surely 
that  soul  will  reverence  my  son." 


42  THE  KILLING   OF   THE   SON. 

How  does  He  come  to  us  ?  How  does  God  send 
his  last  appeal  to  you  and  me  ?  Soon  we  shall  liear 
the  lifting  of  the  Christmas  hymn  that  tells  us  the 
great  story  of  the  beginning  of  God's  sending  of  his 
Son  in  human  flesh.  To-day  I  would  speak,  not  of 
the  historic  manifestation  of  Christ  made  flesh,  but 
of  that  spiritual  coming  of  God's  Son  to  your  soul 
and  mine.     How  has  it  come  ? 

Whenever  there  has  been  presented  to  us  the  vis- 
ion of  a  nobler  and  truer  life,  whenever  you  have  felt 
that  it  was  possible  to  live  a  better  life  than  you  have 
been  living,  to  be  a  nobler,  purer,  truer,  healthier,  more 
glorious  character,  there  has  stood  before  you  God's 
image  of  humanity,  the  revelation  of  God's  ideal  ful- 
filled in  Jesus  Christ. 

Now  how  variously  it  comes !  Here  is  a  man  that 
has  lived  a  careless  life.  He  has  been  good  enough, 
as  his  friends  say ;  he  is  not  a  bad  sort  of  fellow. 
He  is  honest,  reliable,  but  he  is  not  religious.  He  is 
not  a  Christian.  He  is  not  in  any  conscious  relation 
to  Jesus  Christ.  What  is  needed  if  that  man  is  ever 
to  render  to  God  the  fruit  that  God  looks  for  ?  It 
must  be  by  answering  to  God's  last  appeal  to  his 
soul,  the  revelation  of  his  Son  to  him.  How  does 
it  come  ?  0,  it  comes  so  differently  !  Some  day  the 
friend  that  has  been  with  you  in  all  your  journey,  that 
has  always  had  a  light  shining  on  his  face  that  you 
have  looked  at  sometimes  with  a  vague  curiosity^  and 


THE  KILLING   OF   THE   SON.  43 

sometimes  with  a  half  pity,  and  sometimes  with  a  pro- 
found sense  that  his  life  is  different  from  your  own, — 
that  friend  lies  down  beside  you  to  die.  Tlie  end  has 
come.  You  see  that  life  go  out  into  the  darkness, 
into  the  mystery,  as  serene  and  confident  and  full  of 
peace  as  the  child  lies  down  at  night  to  sleep.  The 
faith  that  has  been  all  through  this  life  of  which  I 
speak  simply  manifests  itself  in  its  perfection  at  the 
end.  God  has  sent  his  Son  in  that  death,  God  has 
sent  his  Son  in  that  faith,  to  stand  before  your  face 
and  say  to  you,  Give  me  the  fruit  of  the  vineyard  ; 
render  to  me  that  which  belongs  to  me  ;  live  as  my 
son  ;  you  are  my  child.  The  perfect  Son  comes  to 
his  own  likeness,  and  asks  for  the  fruit  of  the 
vineyard. 

It  comes  in  my  shame.  When  I  am  continuing  in 
sin,  suddenly  there  is  the  revelation  to  me  of  a  life 
that  is  so  different  from  that  that  I  am  now  living 
that  it  seems  impossible  that  there  can  be  anything 
in  common  between  the  perfect  life  and  my  sinful  one. 
And  yet  in  the  very  knowledge  of  that  difference  there 
is  the  deeper  knowledge  of  the  oneness,  and  I  stretch 
out  my  hands  and  say.  Lord,  save,  or  I  perish. 

It  comes  in  sickness,  it  comes  in  despondency,  it 
comes  in  prosperity,  it  comes  in  sorrow,  it  comes  in 
misfortune,  it  comes  in  great  trials  and  perplexities 
of  life.  Always  God  leaves  not  himself  without  wit- 
nesses.    Whenever  the  door  of  vour  Hfe  is  thrown 


44  THE  KILLING   OF  THE  SON. 

open  by  some  great  wind  of  happiness  that  causes 
the  sunlight  to  stream  into  the  darkest  corners  of  it, 
and  jou  lift  up  yourself  in  new  joy  and  thankfulness, 
because  the  meaning  of  life  has  come  to  yon,  there 
stands  the  Son  of  God.  If  the  door  of  your  life  is 
put  open  by  that  dark  and  shadowy  hand  that  makes 
no  noise  and  leaves  no  sign  behind,  —  the  aAvful  fig- 
ure of  death,  —  there  is  the  presence  of  the  Son  of 
God.  Surely  they  will  reverence  my  Son.  Surely 
God's  last  appeal  must  not  be  in  vain. 

And  yet  how  often  it  is  in  vain.  This  parable  was 
spoken  at  the  very  end  of  the  Master's  ministry.  It 
was  one  of  the  parables  of  judgment ;  but  one  thing 
about  it  which  makes  it  different  from  the  others 
that  we  do  not  sufficiently  bear  in  mind  is  this :  that 
it  is  not  the  householder  that  sits  in  judgment  on 
the  poor  wretch  that  has  failed  to  render  the  fruit  of 
the  vineyard  ;  it  is  the  man  himself  that  ascends  the 
throne  of  judgment,  and  decides  whether  the  creden- 
tials of  tlie  Son  that  the  Father  has  sent  are  worthy 
of  consideration,  whether  or  not  he  will  reject  or 
receive  the  Son. 

That  is  the  great  mystery  of  life,  that  in  the  silence 
of  your  own  soul,  my  friend,  you  decide  whether  this 
life  revealed  in  the  Gospel,  of  which  you  have  heard 
from  the  day  you  were-  able  to  hear  anything,  — 
whether  it  is  worth  while  to  receive  it  or  not.     You 


THE  KILLING   OF   THE   SON.  45 

are  the  judge,  and  the  Son  of  the  living  God  stands 
at  the  bar  of  your  poor  human  judgment,  and  says, 
Will  you  receive  me  or  will  you  reject  me  ? 

You  may  say  to  me,  Do  you  believe  that  there  is 
anything  so  deliberate  as  that  ?  Do  you  believe  that 
I  actually  consider  the  matter  in  that  way,  and  decide 
that  I  will  not  be  a  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ  ?  Because, 
if  you  do,  you  do  not  understand  the  mysteries  of  the 
human  heart.  Well,  look  at  it  in  the  other  way,  and 
consider  what  comes  to  the  man  that  accepts  Jesus 
Christ ;  who  acknowledges  that  the  life  that  has  been 
revealed  to  him,  however  it  may  have  been  revealed,  is 
the  true  life ;  that  there  is  something  like  it  in  him, 
and  that  he  will  devote  himself  to  its  service  and  be  a 
changed  man.  What  happens  to  that  man  ?  Is  his 
judgment  deliberate  ?  I  suppose  that  the  last  act  in 
which  a  man  finally  surrenders  his  selfishness,  his 
self-will,  to  that  divine  life,  is  a  deliberate  act ;  but  I 
suppose  that,  in  every  case  back  of  it  has  gone  an 
infinite  number  of  small  acts  which  the  man  did  not 
know  were  tending  irresistibly  to  the  final  statement 
of  his  judgment,  bringing  him  to  the  point  where  he 
must  say.  To  whom  shall  we  go  ?  Thou  hast  the 
w^ords  of  eternal  life.  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son 
of  the  living  God. 

It  is  a  long  process,  but  there  comes  some  moment 
in  a  man's  life  when  his  judgment  is  a  deliberate  one. 
Every  little  child  that  has  ever  done  that  which  his 


46  THE   KILLING   OF   THE   SON. 

conscience  told  him  to  do  when  he  did  not  want  to  do 
it,  has  begun  to  walk  the  path  that  will  lead  to  Jesus 
Christ.  Every  poor,  weak,  pitiful  boy  that  at  school 
has  been  led  away  by  some  evil  companion  and  done 
that  which  in  his  heart  of  hearts  he  knew  was  Avrong, 
has  begun  to  reject  the  Son  of  the  living  God. 

What  happens  when  actually  it  comes  to  pass  that 
you  and  I  declare  judgment  in  this  matter  ?  What 
happens,  I  say  ?  Look,  for  the  moment  that  is  left  us, 
at  the  way  in  which  that  judgment  which  has  really 
been  the  accumulation  of  innumerable  little  acts  and 
thoughts  and  statements  finally  utters  itself  as  the 
deliberate  statement  of  a  man's  opinion  about  God's 
dealing  with  him.  What  comes  to  pass  ?  It  is  al- 
ways sudden.  It  is  always,  in  a  sense,  unexpected. 
When  a  man  has  done  the  thing,  he  is  always  sur- 
prised that  he  did  it ;  but,  as  I  say,  it  is  the  result  of 
a  long  process.  What  can  a  man  do  when  actually  it 
comes  to  pass  that  this  messenger  of  God  will  not  let 
him  alone  ?     What  can  he  do  ? 

There  are  but  two  things  he  can  do.  One  is  to 
receive  Him,  and  the  other  is  to  reject  Him.  This 
conflict  cannot  go  on  forever,  because,  my  friends, 
what  every  one  of  us  wants  is  happiness,  peace  and 
quiet,  and  joy  and  serenity  and  harmony  of  life.  Can 
you  have  it  with  a  life  standing  by  your  own  with  its 
unceasing  demand,  with  its  constant  rebuke,  with  its 
glorious  revelation  ?     Is  it  possible  that  I,  in  my  sin 


THE    KILLING    OF   THE   SON.  47 

and  in  my  evil-doing,  can  beat  peace  when  that  life 
is  there  ? 

Why,  my  friends,  the  standing  of  Jesus  Christ  by 
your  life  and  mine  before  we  have  been  converted, 
before  we  have  given  ourselves  up  to  Him,  is  like 
the  sudden  appearance  of  the  face  of  the  mother  in 
some  house  of  shame  where  the  son  riots.  It  is 
like  the  coming  home  of  the  patriot,  maimed  and 
wounded,  and  showing  himself  to  the  man  that,  in 
his  selfishness,  had  refused  to  bear  arms  for  the 
glorious  cause.  It  is  the  solemn  face  of  the  father 
looking  on  the  son  that  has  wasted  his  substance  and 
is  going  down  to  degradation. 

How  is  it  possible  that  there  should  be  peace  and 
harmony,  serenity  and  happiness,  when  these  two 
things  stand  there  opposed  ?  That  is  the  reason 
that  in  every  case,  sooner  or  later,  a  man  either  re- 
ceives the  Son  of  God,  or  says  to  himself.  This  is 
the  heir ;  now  I  am  tired  of  it ;  I  want  to  be  let 
alone ;  I  want  this  conscience  that  is  continually 
probing  and  worrying  me,  —  I  want  that  thing  to 
cease.  And  the  man  sinks  himself  deeper  in  his 
lusts,  in  his  dishonesty,  in  liis  selfishness.  For 
what?  That  he  may  silence  the  voice  of  the  liv- 
ing God. 

That  is  the  killing  of  the  Son  of  God.  And  every 
man  that  deliberately  turns  away  from  the  vision  of 
a  nobler  life,  and  goes  back  again  to  that  which  he 


48  THE   KILLING    OF   THE   SON. 

knows  in  his  soul  is  wrong,  that  man  has  done  what 
these  men  of  the  vineyard  did.  He  has  said.  This  is 
the  heir ;  this  is  the  one  that  is  the  cause  of  all  the 
trouble  and  perplexity  of  my  life ;  he  will  not  leave 
me  alone ;  therefore  he  shall  be  cast  out  and  killed. 
And  there  are  men  walking  this  earth  to-day,  and 
in  this  city  to-day,  that  are  just  as  truly  guilty  of  the 
blood  of  the  Son  of  God  as  Judas  who  sold  Jesus,  or 
Pontius  Pilate  who  gave  the  word  that  he  should  be 
crucified. 

St.  John  tells  us  in  his  Gospel  that  a  year  before 
the  crucifixion  Jesus  stood  on  the  hill  of  the  Temple, 
and,  looking  into  the  faces  of  the  people  who  scorned 
him,  said.  Why  go  ye  about  to  kill  me  ?  They  were  at 
once  astonished  and  indignant,  and  answered.  Thou 
hast  a  devil,  who  goeth  about  to  kill  thee.  But 
Jesus  knew  that  they  were  killing  the  Divine  Life  in 
their  souls,  and  that  soon  they  would  kill  the  Prince 
of  Life.  0,  let  us  look  into  our  lives  and  see  whither 
they  tend ! 

And  now  there  is  but  one  word  more,  and  that  is 
the  other  possibility  of  it  all :  the  possibility,  when 
that  life  comes  to  us,  to  lift  up  our  hearts  and  say. 
This  is  God's  last  appeal  to  me ;  this  is  God's  last 
message.  Not  because  the  infinite  mercy  of  God  is 
exhausted,  but  because  the  possibility  of  my  nature 


THE  KILLING   OF   THE   SON.  49 

is  exhausted.  When  God  has  sent  his  own  Son  to 
appeal  to  that  which  is  in  me  like  him,  God  has 
made  his  last  appeal,  has  probed  down  to  the  very 
root  of  my  being. 

0,  it  is  possible  in  that  moment  to  respond,  and, 
as  John  says  in  the  first  chapter  of  his  Gospel,  to 
receive  him.  And  to  as  many  as  received  him ;  to  as 
many  as  said.  Lord,  I  believe,  help  thou  mine  unbelief ; 
to  as  many  as  have  said.  Lord,  I  am  a  sinner,  thou 
hast  the  power  to  change  my  sin  and  set  me  pure 
before  God  ;  to  as  many  as  have  said,  Lord,  I  am 
bound  with  the  chain  of  sin,  shame  has  wrapped  me 
round  and  round,  thou  canst  release  me;  Lord,  my 
heart  is  broken  and  my  life  lias  become  a  burden, 
but  thou,  I  believe,  canst  be  my  comfort  and  my 
strength ;  —  to  every  such  man  there  is  given  power 
to  become  the  son  of  God,  to  live  a  new  life ;  to 
walk  this  earth,  so  full  of  trouble,  so  full  of  sick- 
ness, so  full  of  quarrelsomeness,  so  full  of  meanness 
and  dishonesty,  —  to  walk  it  a  new  man,  knowing 
that  the  Eternal  is  our  Father,  that  He  is  with  us,  and 
was  before  us,  and  is  leading  us  on.  Not  because  He 
desires  us  to  give  fruit  that  He  may  enjoy  it  does  He 
send  again  and  again,  and  Him  "  last  of  all,"  but  be- 
cause he  has  created  every  one  of  us  that  we  might 
yield  up  the  glory  of  our  own  nature,  and  find,  in  so 
yielding,  our  own  peace,  our  own  joy,  and  our  own 
glory. 


50  THE  KILLING    OF   THE   SON. 

0,  I  beg  of  you,  as  you  listen  to  the  beginning  of 
that  great  story  of  the  earthly  life  of  Jesus  Christ, 
I  beg  you  to  believe,  every  man  and  woman  and 
child  here  to-day,  that  two  paths  are  opening  up  be- 
fore every  one  of  you.  The  one  path  leads  to  the 
crucifixion  of  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and  the  putting 
him  to  an  open  shame,  and  the  other  path  leads  to 
the  reception  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  with  that  recep- 
tion God's  great  gift  of  the  pow^r  to  be  called  and  to 
be  the  child  of  the  Living  God. 


IV. 

REVELATION. 

And  they  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God. 

Genesis,  iii.  8. 

THE  Christian  year  may  be  compared  to  a  noble 
symphony.  It  begins  with  the  far-off  murmur  of 
judgment,  and  ends  with  the  triumphal  burst  of  All 
Saints'  day,  when  we  "see  the  dead,  both  small  and 
great,  stand  before  God."  But  each  season  has  its 
own  note.  In  Advent  we  have  the  three  great  means 
used  in  the  Divine  education  brought  to  our  notice,  — 
the   Bible,  the  Church,  and  the  adversities  of  life. 

We  are  to  think  to-day  of  Revelation,  and  its  record 
in  the  Bible. 

"  And  they  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God." 
This  is  the  beginning  of  the  record  of  Revelation,  and 
like  all  beginnings  it  is  full  of  interest,  for  in  it  we 
find  the  key  to  all  that  follows.  It  is  so  simple. 
From  the  beginning  the  narrative  tells  us  of  God's 
speaking.  Suddenly  man  hears  the  Divine  voice.  A 
commandment,  we  are  told,  had  been  given  the  man, 
but  there  had  been  no  conversation,  no  intercourse. 


52  REVELATION. 

with  God.  Man  knew  that  he  was  accountable ;  that 
was  all ;  there  was  a  dim  sense  of  right  and  wrong. 
The  beauty  of  the  morning  passed  in  joy,  the  heat 
of  the  noonday  filled  his  veins,  in  the  pride  of  his 
strength  he  sinned,  and  in  the  silence  of  the  evening 
he  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God. 

What  does  it  mean  ?  The  man  who  wrote  these 
words  long  ago  was  not  troubled  by  questions  which 
we  ask  now.  He  had  had  experiences  of  life,  and 
had  had  thoughts  come  to  him  that  he  had  never 
dreamed  of  before.  It  was  like  the  lifting  of  a  veil, 
and  he  saw  his  heart.  He  put  himself  in  the  place 
of  that  man  of  whom  Hebrew  tradition  spoke,  and 
said,  He  sinned.  When  he  sinned  he  knew  that  he 
was  naked.  He  knew  at  once  his  helplessness  and 
his  shame,  and  in  that  new  and  awful  experience  he 
heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God.  He  saw  the  future 
of  man,  —  a  life  of  toil  and  weariness  destined  to 
end  in  death.  But  it  was  possible  by  the  hope  of 
triumph  sometime,  somewliere.  The  voice  spoke, 
the  veil  was  lifted. 

There  are  two  ways  of  approaching  such  a  story  as 
this.  They  are  sometimes  called  the  sceptical  and 
the  believing  spirit.  I  prefer  to  call  them  the  critical 
and  the  sympathetic  spirit. 

The  critical  spirit  says,  "  How  did  the  man  know 


REVELATION.  53 

that  this  was  the  voice  of  God?  "  and  the  record  gives 
us  no  answer.  The  Bible  begins  with  an  immense 
assumption.  It  is  that  there  is  a  God,  that  all  things 
visible  are  the  effects  of  His  energy,  that  man  is  es- 
sentially one  with  Him.  Granted  the  assumption, 
and  Revelation  follows  inevitably.  The  father  must 
speak  to  his  child.  The  child  must  know  when  his 
father  speaks.  To  have  that  assumption  for  the 
groundwork  of  our  thinking,  and  to  find  illustrations 
of  it  in  one's  life,  is  to  be  in  sympathy  with  the  record 
of  the  many  revelations.  But  to  deny  that  assump- 
tion, and  then  insist  that  the  experiences  of  men 
should  prove  that  they  are  not  illusions,  is  to  do  what 
would  not  be  tolerated  in  the  daily  affairs  of  life. 
It  is  to  arraign  the  soul  for  lunacy,  and  insist  that  it 
shall  prove  itself  sane.  It  is  enough  to  make  a  man 
insane  to  put  him  in  such  a  position ;  and  this  is  not 
a  mere  figure  of  speech,  it  is  a  fact  which  many  an 
inmate  of  our  asylums  witnesses  to,  —  the  victims  of 
religious  depression  they  are  sometimes  called,  and 
strange  conclusions  are  drawn  from  their  state ;  but 
so  far  as  I  knoAv  no  one  has  pointed  out  that  this 
condition  has  been  produced  not  by  religion,  but  by 
that  bastard  rationalism  which  called  in  question  that 
fundamental  conviction  of  the  human  mind  that  it  is 
in  communion  with  the  Eternal  God. 

Of  course,  if  we  are  entering  a  plea  for  religion  as 
if  it  were  an  exceptional   thing  and  needed  special 


54  REVELATION. 

protection  in  order  that  it  might  survive,  then  no 
contempt  would  be  too  great  for  its  advocates.  But 
we  make  no  such  plea,  we  simply  submit  that  it 
should  receive  tlie  same  treatment  that  is  given  to 
the  knowledge  derived  from  the  senses.  Is  that 
done  ?  I  appeal  to  those  of  you  who  look  with  a 
half-pitying  curiosity  at  the  religious  life  and  lament 
that  it  has  not  the  same  proof  that  is  to  be  found 
elsewhere.  I  ask  where  ?  In  the  testimony  of  the 
senses  ?  Certainly  there  is  nothing  that  I  can  be 
more  sure  of  than  the  resistance  of  this  plate  to  the 
pressure  of  my  hand,  or  that  I  see  the  people  who 
sit  before  me ;  but  if  any  child  were  to  ask  how  I 
know  it,  I  should  have  to  fall  back  on  that  childish 
answer  which  is  the  unconscious  testimony  of  the 
human  mind  to  faith  in  its  own  affirmations,  "  I  know 
because  I  do."  For  consider  what  is  required  when 
we  ask  for  proof  of  the  reality  of  sensual  impressions. 
We  are  asking  that  proof  be  given  of  the  existence 
of  the  external  universe.  But  that  cannot  be  done. 
It  may  be  that  the  universe  is  as  unsubstantial  as  the 
cloudy  figures  of  rampant  horses  and  flying  dragons 
that  children  see  in  the  evening  sky.  It  is  their 
imagination  alone  which  gives  form  to  the  nebulae. 
It  may  be  tliat  we  have  inherited  a  fancy  of  some 
early  generation,  and  stand  like  children  looking  at 
we  know  not  what,  and  calling  it  mountains  and 
rivers  and  lakes.     The  great  assumption  of  a  visible 


REVELATION.  55 

universe,  coupled  with  the  kindred  assumption  that 
our  judgment  on  the  senses'  testimony  is  true,  under- 
lies all  our  thought  of  visible  things. 

All  the  truths  of  mathematics  are  based  on  axioms, 
self-evidencing  truths,  that  is,  statements  Avhich  com- 
mend themselves  to  educated  minds.  All  the  monu- 
ments of  science  rest  on  the  faith  that  this  is  an 
intelligible  universe,  that  there  is  order  in  it,  and  that 
that  order  can  be  interpreted  by  man.  Wliat  is  the 
result,  then,  of  these  considerations  ?  It  is  this,  that 
what  we  call  Revelation,  that  is,  the  communion  be- 
tween man  and  God,  rests  upon  an  assumption  which 
cannot  be  demonstrated  perhaps,  but  yet  does  not 
differ  in  that  respect  from  other  knowledge  which  we 
think  we  possess. 

There  are  two  objections  which  are  sometimes 
made  to  this  line  of  argument :  first,  that  it  seems 
to  prove  that,  because  all  things  are  uncertain,  there- 
fore one  thing  is  as  improbable  as  another,  which  is 
absurd.  To  which  I  answer,  that  all  the  argument 
was  intended  for  was  to  answer  an  objection  by  show- 
ing that  the  same  objection  would  invalidate  all  con- 
clusions, —  not  that  revelation  is  true,  ])ut  simply  that 
it  is  possible.  Another  objection  is,  that  while  it  may 
be  true  that  scepticism  underlies  all  knowledge,  yet 
the  testimony  of  humanity  is  unanimous  as  to  the 
witness  of  the  senses,  while  it  cannot  be  pretended 
that  this  is  the  case  with  revelation.     This  is  very 


B6  REVELATION. 

true,  but  why  is  it  so  ?  It  is  because  the  immense 
majority  of  the  human  race  has  been  in  the  past,  and  is 
to-day,  chiefly  interested  in  things  of  the  senses,  and 
consequently  sensuous  things  are  more  easily  appre- 
ciated by  us  than  things  of  the  spirit.  But  we  are 
just  as  sure  that  the  square  on  the  hypothenuse  is 
equal  to  the  sum  of  the  squares  on  the  other  two 
sides  of  a  right-angled  triangle  as  we  are  of  any  fact 
witnessed  to  by  the  senses.  Yet  how  small  is  the 
number  of  men  of  whom  that  is  true.  It  is  question- 
able if  to-day  there  be  a  man  alive  to  whom  all  the 
propositions  of  Euclid  are  axioms,  as  they  were  said 
to  be  to  Newton ;  but  that  does  not  shake  our  faith 
in  their  truth.  We  cannot  explain  them  to  the  abo- 
rigines of  Australia,  we  cannot  translate  them  into 
the  gibberish  of  the  ape-like  man  of  the  African  forest, 
but  we  none  the  less  believe  them  to  be  true.  So  the 
objection  fails.  It  is  true  that  the  God-consciousness 
of  man  is  but  partially  developed,  but  that  is  what  we 
might  expect,  for  look  at  the  story  of  the  human  race 
as  told  by  science.  There  was  a  time  when  there 
was  life  upon  this  planet  which  had  no  consciousness. 
There  came  a  time  when  to  that  life  there  came  the 
dim  dawning  of  a  new  day,  and  life  groped  and  felt 
and  vaguely  saw.  The  universe  was  revealed  to  life, 
and  in  that  revelation  was  inijjlied  clothing  and  better 
food,  buildings,  and  music  and  art. 


REVELATION.  57 

There  came  another  day.  Life  became  self-con- 
scious, differentiated  itself  from  the  universe,  rose 
like  an  island  in  the  universal  sea,  or  stood  like  a  gi- 
ant and  beat  against  the  titanic  forces  of  nature.  It 
was  the  beginning  of  the  revelation  of  self,  and  in 
it  was  hidden  war  and  industry,  and  the  skill  that 
would  sail  the  seas  and  span  the  rivers  and  "  out  of 
the  hills  dig  brass." 

There  came  another  day  when  man's  spirit  looked 
within,  and  he  saw  something  of  the  mystery  of  his 
own  spirit.  It  was  the  day  of  the  revelation  of 
personality,  and  was  the  dawn  of  law  to  protect  that 
person,  and  history  to  instruct,  and  poetry  to  inspire. 
Homer  and  Virgil,  Dante  and  Shakespeare,  Milton 
and  Browning,  then  began  to  be. 

And  then  came  a  day  when  in  the  inmost  caverns 
of  his  life  man  heard  a  voice  Avhich  he  knew  was  the 
voice  of  the  Eternal,  and  in  that  faint  whisper  there 
was  the  promise  of  Abraham  and  Moses,  of  Zoroaster 
and  Buddha,  of  the  Psalms  of  David  and  the  vision 
of  Isaiah,  of  the  moan  of  Jeremiah  and  the  shout 
of  Ezekiel,  of  the  thunders  of  John,  and  the  whirl- 
wind of  Peter,  and  the  earthquake  energy  of  Paul, 
and  the  still,  small  voice  that  said,  "  When  ye  pray 
say.  Our  Father."  The  history  of  mankind  is  the  his- 
tory of  revelation,  the  lifting  of  the  veil  which  hid 
nature,  and  man,  and  God. 


58  REVELATION. 

The  record  of  the  revelation  of  the  spiritual  life, 
the  slow  lifting  of  the  veil  from  conscience,  the  open- 
ing of  the  vistas  to  hope,  the  visions  of  faith,  are 
found  in  many  books,  written  in  many  tongues ;  and 
the  writers  of  wise  books,  as  the  Vedas  or  the  Avestas, 
or  the  Koran,  or  the  Bible,  have  always  been  spoken 
of  as  inspired  men,  —  men  filled  with  a  spirit  dif- 
ferent from  their  time,  —  a  spirit  of  deeper  faith  and 
larger  hope  and  wider  charity,  a  spirit  of  spiritual 
insight,  the  effect,  in  a  word,  of  the  influence  upon 
their  souls  of  the  Spirit  of  God. 

If  we  ask  ourselves  about  the  relative  merits  of 
these  books,  we  may  find  many  ways  in  which  they 
may  be  tested  ;  but  perhaps  the  one  which  will  appeal 
most  to  us  is  the  simple  one  of  works.  What  book 
had  the  greatest  influence  on  mankind  ?  What  book 
has  nerved  soldiers,  and  inspired  statesmen,  and  in- 
flamed poets,  and  given  subjects  to  art  ?  What  book 
has  entered  into  life  and  made  the  child  thoughtful, 
the  youth  temperate,  and  the  man  patient?  What 
has  blessed  marriage,  and  comforted  the  dying,  and 
given  hope  to  those  who  sit  in  darkness  and  in  the 
shadow  of  death  ?  There  is  but  one  answer.  It  is 
that  collection  of  Hebrew  and  Christian  literature 
which  is  called  the  Bible. 

If  we  ask  ourselves  what  has  been  the  secret  of  its 
success,  it  may  not  be  easy  to  find  the  answer.  Partly, 
no  doubt,  it  is  due  to  the  immense  diversity  of  the 


REVELATION.  59 

subject  it  treats.  From  the  fierce  lust  of  prehistoric 
man  to  the  sweet  love  story  of  Ruth  the  story  runs. 
We  are  led  from  the  idol-worshipping  slaves  at  the 
foot  of  Horeb  to  the  splendors  of  Solomon's  tem- 
ple. We  listen  breathlessly  to  the  latest  rumor  from 
Egypt,  and  tremble  at  the  tramp  of  the  Assyrian  host. 
We  delight  in  Joseph  and  David,  the  types  of  purity 
and  courage.  There  is  nothing  like  it  except  in 
Shakespeare.  Whom  shall  we  put  beside  Hamlet  and 
Macbeth,  Henry  V.  and  Hotspur,  Shy  lock  and  Lear, 
Wolsey,  Katherine,  and  Portia,  and  Rosalind  ?  We 
put  beside  them  Miriam  and  Deborah,  Ruth  and  Es- 
ther, the  story  of  the  subtle  poison  that  worked  in 
Balaam's  veins,  the  madness  of  Saul,  the  dying  bed  of 
David,  the  weird  Elijah,  the  fearless  Micaiah,  Jezebel 
and  Ahab,  Jeremiah  and  Daniel,  the  mighty  Elisha, 
the  crafty  Gehazi,  the  princely  Naaman,  and  the  dear 
little  home-sick  girl  that  sent  him  to  be  cured  of 
his  leprosy. 

Doubtless  this  marvellous  power  in  the  Hebrew 
dramatists  has  had  something  to  do  with  the  power 
of  the  book,  but  there  is-  a  deeper  reason  still.  It  is 
that  men  have  found  it  a  light  unto  their  path.  Con- 
sciously or  unconsciously,  they  felt  that  this  history 
was  not  an  exception  to  the  story  of  life,  but  the  in- 
terpretation of  life.  They  felt  that  all  life  was  a 
revelation,  and  from  these  men  of  old  they  learned 
to  listen  for  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God,  and  heard  it. 


60  REVELATION. 

But  above  all  there  is  the  revelation  in  the  Gospels  of 
our  Saviour's  life  of  joy  and  patience  and  power,  and 
in  the  Epistles  the  revelation  of  the  revolution  in  so- 
ciety which  that  life  wrought,  and  the  wonder  of  the 
converted  lives  of  which  it  teaches.  This  story  has 
slowly  brought  those  who  have  known  its  power  to 
feel  that  this  book  is  the  text-book  of  the  child  of 
God,  that  God  speaks  because  He  loves  us,  that  man 
can  hear  because  he  is  the  child. 

Looked  at  in  this  way,  my  friends,  as  the  noblest 
record  the  world  has  of  the  God-spirit  working  upon 
the  heart  of  man,  how  rich  and  holy  our  Bible  seems. 
How  petty  and  insignificant  the  disputes  that  break 
its  majestic  calm !  Were  the  men  who  wrote  this 
book  inspired  ?  See  if  they  inspire  you.  Compare 
the  story  of  Eden  in  Genesis  with  the  same  story  in 
its  Chaldean  form.  In  both  are  the  mythical  tree  of 
life,  the  fabled  serpent,  the  living  sword ;  but  in  Gen- 
esis amid  the  vain  shadows  of  life  walks  the  Lord 
God,  to  reprove  and  comfort  and  bless.  You  feel 
that  you  have  opened  a  history  of  a  humanity  which 
lives  and  breathes  and  has  it«  being  in  God. 

Were  these  writers  infallihle  ?  Not  if  they  were  hu- 
man. The  astronomy  and  geography,  the  political 
economy  and  jurisprudence,  the  social  customs  and 
sanitary  laws,  were  of  their  day ;  but  He  whom  they 
knew  in  spite  of  their  limitations  is  the  Eternal. 


REVELATION.  61 

When  we  stand  rapt  in  admiration  before  some 
masterpiece  of  the  Venetian  painters,  do  we  complain 
because  the  Wise  Men  are  dressed  like  Doges,  or 
because  Mary  is  like  a  princess  of  the  Republic  ?  Has 
the  Marriage  at  Cana  no  message  because  the  lordly 
dishes  are  borne  by  Nubians,  and  Italian  hounds 
are  held  in  leash  ?  Because  the  master  of  the  feast 
might  be  Bassanio,  because  the  roof  is  upheld  by 
mighty  pillars,  and  the  great  table  spread  with  meat 
and  drink  such  as  was  never  heard  of  in  Galilee, 
because  he  knew  less  than  we  do  of  the  customs  of 
the  Jews,  shall  we  say  Paul  Veronese  was  not  a 
painter  ?  No,  what  inspires  is  not  archaeology,  but 
insight,  and  to  have  seen  that  the  presence  and  bless- 
ing of  Jesus  will  make  any  marriage  the  joyous  feast 
which  the  splendors  of  Italy  but  faintly  portrayed,  is 
a  truer  rendering  of  the  story  than  the  dull  commen- 
tary that  tells  us  how  much  a  tirkin  contains. 

That  all  these  controversies  have  turned  us  from 
the  Bible,  so  that  we  do  not  know  it  as  our  fathers 
did,  is  a  fact  which  serious-minded  men  much  lament ; 
but  better  days  are  coming.  More  and  more  men  in 
the  Church  are  saying  the  Bible  is  not  infallible,  but 
in  it  is  the  Spirit  of  God,  "  and  it  is  profitable  for 
teaching,  for  reproof,  for  correction,  for  instruction 
which  is  in  righteousness,  that  the  man  of  God  may 
be  complete,  furnished  completely  unto  every  good 
work." 


62  REVELATION, 

May  the  teachings  of  this  day  lead  us  to  a  deeper 
love  for  the  treasure  which  we  have  inherited,  writ- 
ten by  men  with  their  heart's  blood,  defended  by 
our  fathers  to  the  death.  Let  us  use  it  intelli- 
gently, reverently,  thankfully,  for  it  is  indeed  the 
Word  of  God. 


V. 

THE   MINISTRY   OF   THE   CHURCH. 

Brother  Saul,  the  Lord,  even  Jesus,  who  appeared  unto 
thee  in  the  way  ivhlch  thou  earnest,  hath  sent  me,  that 
thou  mayest  receive  thy  sight.  —  Acts,  ix.  17. 


1^  S  the  service  for  the  second  Sunday  in  Advent 


A 


turns  our  thoughts  to  the  Bible,  so  the  service 
of  to-day  turns  them  to  the  ministry. 

The  difference  between  a  minister  and  a  priest  is 
fundamental.  The  Church  of  the  New  Testament 
knows  nothing  of  priests,  but  it  is  the  continuous 
record  of  a  ministry.  And  this  is  not  accidental. 
It  was  as  impossible  for  the  Church  of  Peter  and 
Paul  to  have  a  priest,  as  for  the  Republic  of  Jefferson 
and  Jackson  to  have  a  king.  It  was  a  difference  not 
of  names,  but  of  ideas.  A  priest  presupposes  sacri- 
fice. The  priesthood  exists  for  the  purpose  of  mak- 
ing an  atonement ;  by  its  service  an  offended  God  is 
made  propitious  to  the  sinner.  Through  his  office 
man  can  draw  man  to  God.  On  the  other  hand, 
a  ministry  presupposes  an  atonement.     Its  service  is 


64  THE   MINISTRY  OF   THE   CHURCH. 

the  perpetual  declaration  that  God  has  shown  himself 
propitious.  Through  him  man  will  believe  that  God 
is  seeking  him.  In  other  words,  one  seeks  to  make 
a  desirable  condition,  the  other  seeks  to  open  men's 
eyes  that  they  may  see  the  conditions  which  God  has 
made. 

How  beautifully  this  is  brought  out  in  the  story  of 
Saul's  enlightenment,  from  which  our  text  is  taken ! 
Saul,  on  his  way  to  Damascus,  is  stricken  down, 
blinded  by  the  sudden  flash  of  light  that  smites 
through  the  clouds  of  passion  which  darkened  the 
sky  of  his  life.  Ananias  hears  of  his  state,  and 
after  a  moment's  hesitation  goes  to  him,  and,  when 
he  has  enlightened  him,  receives  him  into  the  Chris- 
tian Church.  Of  Ananias  we  hear  no  more.  But 
we  have  seen  enough.  He  steps  for  one  moment 
out  of  the  obscurity  of  his  life  into  the  light  of  his- 
tory, and  when  he  has  passed  across  the  stage  w^e 
see  in  his  place  the  man  who  shall,  in  his  turn,  open 
the  eyes  of  the  Church  to  the  meaning  of  Christ's 
commission.  Ananias  was  not  a  priest,  —  he  was 
not  even  an  office-bearer  in  the  church  at  Damascus, 
—  he  is  introduced  simply  as  ''a  certain  disciple." 
The  few  words  which  are  recorded  of  his  part  in  the 
interview  with  Saul  are  surely  not  all  he  said  at  such 
a  momentous  time.  1  think  we  should  rather  sup- 
pose that,  when  Paul  told   the  story  to  Luke,  Luke 


THE  MINISTRY  OF   THE   CHURCH.  65 

condensed  the  teaching  of  Ananias  into  what  to- 
day we  should  call  the  "heads  of  the  discourse." 
''  Brother  Saul,  the  Lord,  even  Jesus,  who  appeared 
unto  thee  in  the  way  which  thou  earnest,  hath  sent 
me,  that  thou  may  est  receive  thy  sight."  Such  words 
as  these,  leading  to  such  momentous  consequences, 
deserve  our  serious  consideration.  They  describe  the 
ministry  of  the  Church. 

''  Brother  Saul."  This  was  not  an  address  of  mere 
civility,  it  was  the  welcome  into  that  brotherhood 
which  Jesus  had  made  possible  through  the  revela- 
tion of  the  Fatherhood  of  God.  Saul  was  not  yet  a 
brother  in  the  technical  sense,  he  had  not  yet  been 
baptized.  But  Ananias  recognized  him  as  a  child 
of  God  and  brother  of  Jesus  Christ.  Here  it  seems 
to  me  must  be  the  starting  point  of  any  effective  min- 
istry. The  man  whose  eyes  are  open  must  see  men 
as  God  sees  them.  When  the  new  scholar  is  brought 
into  the  school-room  the  w^ise  teacher  does  not  greet 
it  as  an  idiot,  and  promise  to  make  it  wise.  No 
training  can  do  that.  The  child  is  greeted  as  one 
more  of  that  great  company  of  sane  and  intelligent 
creatures  whose  joy  shall  be  found  in  the  gradual 
unfolding  of  its  perceptions  and  the  enlargement  of 
its  powers  of  reflection. 

We  sometimes  talk  as  if  baptism  created  a  rela- 
tionship betw^een  the  soul  of  the  unconscious   babe 

5 


66  THE  MINISTRY  OF   THE    CHURCH. 

and  the  Eternal  God.  Indeed,  by  some  the  ser- 
vice of  our  Church  is  thought  to  lend  color  to  this 
theory.  But  it  is  a  hasty  conclusion,  at  variance 
with  the  evangelical  character  of  our  Church.  In 
the  Catechism  the  child  is  taught  that  in  baptism 
it  is  "  made "  the  child  of  God.  But  look  at  the 
same  use  of  the  word  in  Romans  (v.  19) :  "  For  as 
by  one  man's  disobedience  many  were  made  sin- 
ners, so  by  the  obedience  of  one  shall  many  be  made 
righteous."  Strange  conclusions  have  been  drawn 
from  these  words  as  they  stand  in  our  English  Bibles, 
but  if  we  look  at  the  word  fcaOto-rdvat.  we  see  that  it 
means  a  judicial  declaration.  It  is  an  authoritative 
statement  of  a  fact.  A  man  has  committed  a  crime. 
The  judge  announces  that  fact,  and,  if  you  please, 
"  makes "  him  a  criminal ;  another  man  is  acquitted 
of  a  crime,  and  the  judge  discharges  him,  and  again 
you  may  say  he  has  made  tlie  man  innocent ;  but  in 
neither  case  has  his  statement  any  value  unless  it  con- 
forms to  the  facts.  The  child  is  made  the  child  of  God 
because  it  is  his  child,  and  were  it  not  so,  nothing 
that  man  could  do  —  no,  nothing  that  God  could  do  — 
could  establish  that  relationsliip,  which  has  always 
existed  or  never  can  exist.  For  to  say  that  man  is 
tlie  child  of  God  does  not  mean  that  sometimes  God 
is  pleased  with  this  or  that  man,  or  that  some  six  thou- 
sand years  ago  God  created  man  in  liis  own  image. 
It  means  far  more  than  that.    It  is  the  assertion  that 


THE  MINISTRY  OF   THE   CHURCH.  67 

God  is  not  an  isolated  Being,  but  that  whenever  God 
was  there  existed  in  Him  that  whicli  is  essentially 
human,  partially  manifested  in  many  men,  perfectly 
manifested  in  the  man  Christ  Jesus.  If  this  be  true, 
then  it  follows  that,  if  any  member  of  humanity  is  a 
child  of  God,  every  member  is  also.  See  what  such  a 
truth  implies.  I  look  about  this  congregation,  I  rec- 
ognize some  of  you  as  communicants  of  this  parish. 
I  know  that,  were  the  communion  to  be  adminis- 
tered at  the  close  of  this  service,  the  large  majority 
of  you  would  withdraw.  How  many  of  you  are  mem- 
bers of  the  Church  ?  Every  one  of  you  !  You  may 
not  know  it,  or  you  may  be  indifferent  to  it,  but 
the  fact  remains  that  every  one  of  you  belongs  to  the 
Church,  and  the  Church  belongs  to  you.  From  time 
to  time  we  hear  of  some  man  who  abandons  some 
great  property  and  loses  himself  in  the  mountains  of 
Africa  or  amid  the  islands  of  the  South  Sea;  but  that 
does  not  change  the  fact  that  he  is  a  great  proprietor, 
and  may  enter  at  any  time  into  its  possession.  So  is 
it  with  your  heritage  in  God.  No  act  of  priest  or 
bishop  can  make  an  ape  a  member  of  the  Church, 
unless  they  can  make  it  human.  No  act  of  man  can 
cast  man  from  the  Church,  unless  he  can  destroy  his 
humanity.  For  what  is  the  Church  ?  It  is  that  ideal 
humanity  on  which  God  looks,  —  that  ideal  humanity 
which  lives  in  perpetual  communion  with  God,  —  whose 
meat  and  drink  it  is  to  do  God's  will.     Actually,  no 


68  THE  MINISTRY  OF   THE   CHURCH, 

man  has  fulfilled  that  ideal  except  Jesus  Christ. 
Potentially,  it  is  a  part  of  every  man.  The  most 
debased  slave  driver  that  to-day  laslies  the  poor  cap- 
tives in  Equatorial  Africa  is  a  Christian ;  for  before 
the  sun  goes  down  his  eyes  may  be  opened,  and  he 
may  see  the  horror  of  his  sin,  and  the  joy  of  Christ's 
service.  Do  you  say  that  this  is  confusing  ?  I  hope 
not.  What  we  commonly  and  rightly  call  the  Church 
is  the  great  company  of  faithful  people,  —  those  who 
know  God  as  their  Father  and  Jesus  as  their  Saviour. 
But  no  company  has  realized  the  ideal.  It  belongs 
to  humanity,  and  is  an  inherent  part  of  your  human 
endowment ;  and  no  man  is  a  true  man  until  he  en- 
ters upon  that  life  of  communion  with  God  which  the 
Church  witnesses  to  and  strives  to  realize.  You  may 
have  a  priesthood  without  tliis  conception  of  human- 
ity, as  Israel  had.  You  may  have  proselytizing,  as 
Islam  had,  denying  the  brotherhood  of  man.  But  a 
ministry  is  dependent  upon  the  truth  that  every  man 
is  God's  child,  and  that  you  can  draw  near  to  him 
and  call  him  Brother. 

We  sometimes  hear  it  said  that  those  who  take 
such  a  view  of  humanity  lose  all  sense  of  distinction. 
If  every  man  is  a  child  of  God,  how  can  we  call  on 
men  to  be  born  anew  ?  If  every  man  is  a  Christian, 
who  are  heathen  ?  If  every  man  is  a  member  of  the 
Church,  there  is  no  difference  between  saints  and 
sinners.     I  do  not  wonder  that  men  say  such  things, 


THE  MINISTRY  OF   THE   CHURCH.  69 

for  they  think  that  God  begins  to  work  when  they 
become  conscious  of  his  working.     But  the  sun  must 
light  your  eyes  before  you  can  see  it  rise.     The  fact 
exists  before  we  see  it.     Jesus  only  is  the  Son  of 
God,  for  Jesus   only  has  lived  as  his  Son ;  but  the 
vilest  criminal   was  made   by   God   with   a   purpose 
which   his  crime   witnesses   he  has  failed   to   fulfil. 
He  is  a  Christian  who  dwells  in  Christ  and  Christ  in 
him.     In  the  most  besotted  heathen  there  is  a  germ 
of  love  and  faith  and  hope.     There  have  been  mo- 
ments when  he  has  moved  the  members  of  his  spir- 
itual being  toward  a  better  life,  as  the  unborn  child 
moves  in  the  womb ;  he  is  born  in  the  day  when  he 
comes  forth  soul  and  body  into  the  activity  of  that 
higher  life,  to  which  he  truly  belongs.     Every  child 
of  man  is  a  part  of  that  ideal  humanity  which  is  the 
Church ;    he  is  a  member  from   the  beginning ;    he 
realizes  his  membership   when   he   says,  "  Father,  I 
have  sinned  and   am   not   worthy   to  be  called   thy 
son;    let  me  serve  in  thy  house."     How  that  great 
truth   underlies  the  whole   of   the  New  Testament! 
Jesus  sees  Nathanael  coming  to  him,  and  greets  him 
as  a  friend.     "How  do  you  know  me?"  cries  Na- 
thanael.   "  Long  before  Philip  called  you,  I  saw  you." 
"  You  are  persecuting  me,"  said  the  voice  of  the  Lord 
to  Saul.     "  The  pangs  and  fears  and  disgust  and  re- 
morse that  have  been  in  your  soul   since    Stephen 
preached  have  been  the  spiritual  goads  with  which  I 


70  THE  MINISTRY  OF   THE   CHURCH. 

was  turning  you  into  the  way  of  life."  "  Behold  what 
manner  of  love  the  Father  hath  bestowed  upon  us, 
that  we  should  be  called  the  sons  of  God.  While  we 
were  yet  sinners  Christ  died  for  us,"  writes  St.  John. 
'•  God  so  loved  the  world,"  says  our  Lord,  "  that  he 
sent  his  only  begotten  Son  that  whosoever  believeth 
on  him  might  not  perish."  What  did  God  love  in 
the  world  ?  The  cruelty  and  hate,  the  lust  and 
shame,  the  envy  and  strife  ?  No,  lie  loved  that  image 
of  Himself,  so  faint  in  some  lives  as  to  be  invisible  to 
all  save  the  eye  of  God,  and  sent  his  Son  that  men 
believing  the  Son  might  come  to  themselves.  No  act 
of  the  Son  could  make  God  love  what  it  was  not  in 
his  nature  to  love,  but  every  word  and  deed,  every 
smile  and  tear,  every  drop  of  sweat,  and  labor  of  dy- 
ing heart,  and  groan  of  fainting  breath,  bore  witness 
to  the  love  of  God  that  passeth  understanding. 

Now  all  this  is  wrapt  up  in  the  words  of  Ana- 
nias,—  "The  Lord,  even  Jesus,  who  appeared  unto 
thee  in  the  w^ay  which  thou  earnest,  hath  sent  me." 
How  such  words  must  have  thrown  light  on  the 
past !  How  the  present  must  have  seemed  to  that 
troubled  soul  to  be  the  natural  outcome  of  the  past ! 

I  should  be  sorry  to  have  any  of  you  feel  that  this 
is  an  analysis  of  the  experience  of  Saul,  which  has 
only  a  vague  reference  to  the  present.  I  know  what  it 
was  to  Saul,  because  I  know  that  this  same  message 
is  bringing  comfort  to  many  souls  to-day.     What  is 


THE  MINISTRY  OF   THE   CHURCH.  71 

the  reason,  my  friend,  that  you  do  not  realize  your 
calling  ?  Is  it  not  that  you  are  not  sure  whether  you 
have  been  called  ?  Why  do  you  shrink  from  ac- 
knowledging yourself  a  Christian  ?  Is  it  not  that 
you  do  not  know  what  the  Christian  life  is  to  be? 
0,  if  there  be  any  such  here  this  morning  to  whom 
Jesus  seems  unreal  and  the  Christian  life  unnatural, 
let  him  ponder  on  tliese  words.  The  rebuke  of  con- 
science, the  voice  of  sacrifice  that  called  you  from 
selfishness,  the  vision  of  a  noble  life,  the  joy  of  doing 
good,  the  sudden  upward  leap  of  your  spirit  at  the 
thought  that  the  power  which  guides  the  stars  and 
holds  the  earth  and  governs  your  life  is  Love,  the 
expansion  of  your  powers  as  you  have  stood  for  a 
moment  in  the  presence  of  hope  and  thought  of  what 
might  be,  —  have  these  experiences  been  unreal  ? 
Have  you  not  felt  then  that  you  were  your  true  self, 
that  that  was  the  natural  thing  to  be  ?  Have  you 
not  felt  that  the  unnatural  thing  was  to  live  as  a 
stranger  to  God,  to  touch  your  fellow  men  in  every 
part  of  life,  but  never  as  spiritual  beings  ?  Has  not 
your  spirit  stretched  its  wings  of  prayer  almost  witli- 
out  your  volition  as  you  have  read  or  heard  or  sung, 

"  Change  and  decay  in  all  around  I  see, 
0  Thou  who  changest  not,  abide  with  me  "  1 

Well,  if  these  or  any  such  experiences  as  these  have 
ever  come  to  you,  I  tell  you,  as  Ananias  told  Saul, 
that  "  the  Lord,  even  Jesus,  who  appeared  unto  thee 


72  THE  MINISTRY  OF   THE   CHURCH. 

in  the  way  which  thou  earnest,  hath  sent  me."  It 
is  not  a  new  thing  that  has  come  to  you.  It  is  the 
working  of  that  same  spirit  that  has  rebuked  and 
exhorted  and  comforted  you  in  the  past  that  is 
claiming  you  to-day.  The  Christian  life  is  no  un- 
natural thing.  It  is  the  blossoming  out  into  perfect 
beauty  of  that  Avhich  you  have  known  from  the  be- 
ginning.  There  has  been  no  time  since  you  began 
to  be,  that  the  spirit  of  Christ  lias  not  been  with 
you.  In  fretful  infancy  and  passionate  youth,  in 
prideful  manhood  and  weak  old  age,  the  spirit  of 
Jesus  has  been  with  you ;  and  now  the  Church,  that 
portion  of  humanity  which  is  even  dimly  conscious 
of  its  life  in  God,  is  sent  to  you. 

"  That  thou  mayest  receive  thy  sight."  Really  that 
is  all  that  is  needed.  One  man  says,  ''  I  see  what 
I  ought  to  do,  but  I  have  not  the  power  to  do  it." 
Another  says,  "  I  have  power,  but  I  do  not  know 
what  I  ought  to  do."  The  conflict  can  only  be  ended 
by  entering  deeper  into  the  life  of  the  spirit.  It  is 
not  a  question  of  doing,  but  of  being.  If  a  man  really 
sees  what  he  is,  and  who  has  been  with  him  on  the 
way,  he  will  have  the  vision  of  what  his  life  ought  to 
be,  and  with  that  vision  will  come  power.  That  was 
St.  Paul's  experience.  Years  after,  when  he  looked 
back  on  the  great  crisis  of  his  life,  he  wrote :  "  I  was 
not  disobedient  to  the  heavenly  vision."  He  had 
power  to  obey.     The  man  who  says,  I  have  power, 


THE  MINISTRY  OF   THE   CHURCH.  73 

but  lack  sight,  is  mistaken.  Sight  is  the  source  of 
power.  I  cannot  say  I  have  strength  to  do  the  work 
of  the  new  year,  —  I  have  strength  only  for  the 
moment.  The  new  strength  will  come  with  the  new- 
task.  The  real  cause  of  spiritual  impotence  is  weak 
sight.  If  a  man  truly  sees,  he  will  do.  Many  of  us 
see  but  dimly.  There  are  two  objects  between  which 
our  gaze  vacillates.  I  am  not  sure  to  which  I  should 
devote  the  energy  of  life.  The  one  which  I  see  most 
clearly  will  reflect  its  light  upon  me,  and  in  that 
light  I  shall  discover  that  within  me  which  is  like  it, 
and  power  w^ill  be  generated  by  the  contact  between 
that  which  is  without  and  that  which  is  within. 
Sight  and  power  are  simultaneous.  A  man  wanders 
aimlessly  along  the  bank  of  a  stream.  Suddenly  he 
sees  some  object  in  the  water.  He  gazes  curiously, 
without  sense  of  responsibility  or  thrill  of  emotion. 
He  looks,  he  sees  a  drowning  child,  and  instantly  the 
thrill  of  life  runs  through  him  and  he  casts  himself 
in  to  save  the  child.  The  power  was  generated  by 
the  sight.  The  artist  looks  on  the  block  of  marble 
and  sees  nothing  but  the  resisting  stone ;  but  as  he 
looks,  little  by  little  he  sees  the  figure  of  beauty  hid- 
den beneath.  With  the  sight  comes  the  tingling 
sense  of  power  till  the  ringing  chisel  hews  down  the 
prison  walls,  and  lets  the  spiritual  thing  stand  forth  in 
its  enduring  beauty.  All  through  life  it  is  the  same. 
If  anv  man  could  see  the  souls  of  God's  little  ones 


74  THE  MINISTRY  OF   THE   CHURCH. 

drowning  in  sin  and  degradation,  he  would  take  no 
thought  of  his  life  if  only  he  might  save  them.  If  any 
man  could  see  the  image  of  God's  Son  hidden  in  the 
gross  sensualism  or  hard  cynicism  of  men's  lives,  he 
would  thrill  to  set  it  free.  If  any  man  could  see 
himself  and  God,  he  Tvould  have  the  power  of  an 
endless  life. 

To  produce  this  result  is  the  object  of  the  ministry. 
They  are  sent  to  call  every  man  Brother,  to  witness 
that  God  has  been  with  him  on  the  path  of  life, — 
that  the  Christian  life  is  not  a  strange  thing,  but 
the  fulfilment  of  that  of  which  every  man  has  had 
some  experience,  —  in  a  word,  that  men  may  receive 
their  sight. 

What  is  the  ministry  ?  Whose  duty  is  this?  These 
are  the  questions  men  are  perpetually  asking.  Why 
do  we  not  turn  it  the  other  way,  and  ask.  Whose  privi- 
lege is  this  ?  And  instantly  the  answer  comes,  it  is 
the  privilege  of  the  Church,  those  conscious  of  their 
own  enlightenment.  It  cannot  be  confined  to  any 
technical  ministry  of  the  clergy.  These  have  their 
place  and  work  in  the  Church,  but  they  neitlier  con- 
stitute the  Church  nor  have  a  monopoly  of  its  privi- 
leges. The  perpetual  minister  is  the  Church,  and 
every  disciple  partakes  of  that  ministry,  and,  if  he 
does  not  exercise  it,  misses  the  meaning  of  his 
membership.     Every  member  should  be  like  a  star, 


THE  MINISTRY  OF   THE    CHURCH.  75 

which  receives  and  transmits  light.  That  was  the 
prophet's  vision,  ''  They  that  turn  many  to  righteous- 
ness shall  shine  as  the  stars  forever."  What  life  can 
be  compared  to  it  for  dignity,  for  interest,  for  joy  ? 
St.  Paul  writes  to  Philemon  that  he  owes  him  his  own 
self.  But  for  Paul's  ministry  Philemon  would  have 
lived  till  the  earthquake  shook  Colossae,  and  never 
known  what  he  himself  was.  Paul  owed  himself  to 
Ananias.  You  and  I  owe  ourselves  to  some  minister 
of  light,  —  to  noble  father  or  patient  mother,  to  loving 
wife,  perhaps  to  dying  child.  Who  owes  himself  to 
us  ?  Wliose  eyes  have  we  opened  to  the  love  of  God, 
the  beauty  of  Christ,  the  joy  of  the  Christian  life  ? 

If  men  do  not  ask  themselves  such  questions,  is  it 
strange  that  we  should  hear  from  time  to  time  that 
the  ministry  lacks  men  ?  Let  the  Church  realize  its 
ministry,  and  men  will  break  forth  from  her  ranks  and 
say,  I  cannot  be  content  till  all  my  life  is  given  to  the 
work  which  fathers  and  mothers,  teachers  and  friends, 
are  doing.  That  time  is  drawing  near.  The  Apostolic 
ministry  is  asserting  itself  in  the  Church.  The  Soci- 
ety of  Christian  Endeavor,  the  Epworth  League,  the 
St.  Andrew's  Brotherhood,  show  that  the  Church  is 
awaking  again  to  its  privileges  and  its  opportunities. 

When  the  tide  has  reached  its  flood,  there  will  be 
joy  in  heaven  and  earth.  There  will  be  Light,  and 
in  that  light  will  be  known  the  wisdom  of  God,  the 
love  of  Jesus,  and  the  power  of  the  Spirit.  May  God 
give  us  grace  to  labor  for  the  advent  of  that  dav  ! 


VI. 

A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON. 

And  he  took  a  little  child,   and  set  him  in  the  midst  of 
them.  —  St.  Mark,  ix.  36. 

TF  we  were  asked  to  choose  the  one  act  of  Jesus's 
life  which  was  the  most  significant  expression  of 
his  teaching,  I  think  we  should  choose  that  touching 
scene,  when,  coming  into  the  house  at  Capernaum,  he 
turned  to  his  disciples  and  said,  "  What  were  ye 
reasoning  in  the  way  ?  But  they  held  their  peace, 
for  they  had  disputed  one  with  another  in  the  way, 
who  was  the  greatest.  .  .  .  And  he  took  a  little  child, 
and  set  him  in  the  midst  of  them ;  and  taking  him 
in  his  arms,  he  said  unto  them.  Whosoever  shall  re- 
ceive one  of  such  little  children  in  my  name  receiv- 
eth  me ;  and  whosoever  receiveth  me,  receiveth  not 
me,  but  him  that  sent  me."  This,  it  seems  to  me,  is 
the  act  most  significant  of  the  meaning  of  Christ's 
coming ;  for  what  he  was  saying  to  those  men  of  evil 
passions  was.  If  you  wish  to  be  great,  you  must 
be  humble ;  if  you  wish  to  be  divine,  you  must  be 
human.     The  true  human   spirit  is  the  child  spirit. 


A    CHRISTMAS   SERMON.  77 

It  will  lead  you  to  me,  and  my  spirit  is  my  father's. 
The  unity  of  God  and  man  has  not  been  broken.  I 
am  the  Mediator,  revealing  to  you  the  path  by  which 
you  may  pass  from  the  innocence  of  childhood  to 
the  heroism  of  manhood,  and  from  the  victory  over 
the  world  to  the  glory  of  the  Father. 

Compare  this  act  with  the  words  in  w^hich  our 
Lord  tells  us  the  secret  of  his  working :  "  The  Son 
can  do  nothing  of  himself,  but  w^hat  he  seeth  the 
Father  doing ;  for  what  things  soever  he  doeth,  these 
the  Son  also  doeth  in  like  manner."  When  the  Son 
acted  his  great  parable  at  Capernaum,  he  only  did 
what  the  Father  had  done  on  the  first  Christmas 
day,  when  in  the  midst  of  the  warring  world  he  too 
"  set  a  little  child." 

"  When  Jesus  was  born  in  Bethlehem  of  Judea,  in 
the  days  of  Herod  the  king,  there  came  wise  men 
from  the  East."  There  were  no  wise  men  in  the 
West  at  that  time  who  would  not  have  said  that  God's 
last  appeal  to  his  children  was  foolishness.  That  the 
righteous  must  bring  the  lawless  to  a  better  life,  the 
Roman  Empire  believed  as  well  as  we.  Some  men 
believed  it  on  the  ground  of  self-preservation,  but 
others  believed  it  because  they  recognized  that  they 
had  a  duty  which  they  owed  the  world.  And  it  is  that 
sense  of  duty  which  dignifies  the  busts  of  the  Emper- 
ors, and  hides  their  lust,  and  tempers  their  cruelty ; 


78  A    CHRISTMAS   SERMON. 

but  they  never  dreamed  that  this  duty  could  be  done 
except  by  the  exercise  of  force.  But  God  revealed 
on  Christmas  day  that  the  world  was  to  be  ruled  by 
the  King  of  saints,  —  that  meekness,  not  force,  was 
to  be  the  instrument.  Csesar  thrashed  men  with  his 
iron  flail  till  they  fell  helpless  at  his  feet.  But  this 
little  child  was  the  Prince  of  Peace,  who  was  to  con- 
quer by  disarming  men.  This  is  the  key  to  the 
Christmas  story.  The  patient  beasts  bow  their  heads 
at  the  feet  of  the  babe  who  should  suffer  far  more 
than  they  had  done ;  the  wdse  men  bring  their  gifts 
to  the  little  child  who  is  the  secret  of  the  universe. 
The  shepherds  hear  the  angels'  song  because  the 
child  of  the  peasant  woman  is  the  Son  of  God  who 
shall  open  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  all  believers. 
At  the  manger  of  Bethlehem  are  met  the  creation 
groaning  and  travailing  in  pain,  the  wise  men  weary 
with  the  search  for  truth,  the  shepherds,  poor,  for- 
gotten, unknow^n,  and  despised,  and  on  them  smiles 
the  little  child,  lying  in  the  foreground  of  human 
life,  while  the  background  is  filled  with  the  mystery 
of  the  power  and  wisdom  and  love  of  God.  And 
these  are  to  be  reconciled.  The  human  is  not  to 
be  destroyed,  but  redeemed ;  sinners  are  not  to  be 
crushed,  but  converted ;  the  enemies  of  God  are  not 
to  be  trampled  under  foot,  but  disarmed.  Can  it  be 
done  ?  If  we  stand  again  by  the  manger,  it  may  be 
w^e  shall  hear  the   voice  that  spake  to  the  prophet : 


A    CHRISTMAS   SERMON.  79 

"  Not  by  might  nor  by  power,  but  by  my  spirit,  the 
spirit  of  the  little  child,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts." 

What  is  the  spirit  of  the  little  child  ?  First  of  all, 
it  is  the  spirit  of  trust.  It  begins  to  manifest  itself 
in  that  willingness  to  come  to  us  and  be  caressed, 
which  is  not  only  one  of  the  most  attractive  traits  of 
childhood,  but  also  the  doorway  by  which  we  may 
enter  into  the  child's  life  and  impart  to  it  such  wis- 
dom as  we  have  learned.  The  child  trusts  us,  and  we 
fondle  it,  and  so  reveal  to  it  our  love.  If  that  spirit 
is  encouraged,  the  child  will  tell  his  joys  and  sorrows, 
and  so  make  of  his  parent  his  best  friend.  And  at 
last  the  child  will  open  its  mind  to  the  father's  teach- 
ing, and  through  its  trust  in  his  wisdom  receive  what 
the  father  has  to  impart.  That,  we  would  all  say,  is 
the  natural  relation  between  a  father  and  his  child, — 
openness  of  mind  on  the  one  hand,  and  inexhaustible 
love  on  the  other.  Suspicion,  distrust,  indifference, 
these  are  unnatural,  they  come  with  sin.  The  natu- 
ral childlike  spirit  is  trustful.  That  is  the  spirit 
which  God  revealed  on  Christmas  day.  The  babe 
of  Mary  knew  no  more  of  God  than  any  little  child 
that  was  born  this  morning.  But  it  loved  Mary,  and 
it  believed  in  Joseph,  and  it  smiled  on  Simeon  and 
Anna,  and  rejoiced  the  hearts  of  the  shepherds. 
Not  because  it  was  different  from  other  children,  but 
because  it  was  like  them,  a  dear  little  baby  who  trusted 
those  that  loved  him. 


80  A    CHRISTMAS   SERMON. 

"Ah!"  we  say  of  our  children,  "  if  that  could  only 
continue,  if  we  could  keep  them  little!"  Mary  and 
Joseph  felt  the  same.  "  Son,"  said  the  mother  to  the 
growing  boy,  "  why  hast  thou  thus  dealt  with  us  ?  " 
The  boy's  answer  was  wonderful :  "  I  am  about  my  fa- 
ther's business."  The  spirit  of  trust  had  not  departed 
from  Jesus,  only  it  had  a  new  object.  It  never  failed. 
It  was  filled  with  awful  doubt.  It  was  lifted  high  by 
great  prosperity.  It  was  shaken  by  sorrow.  It  was 
racked  by  suffering,  —  it  was  faced  with  shame  and 
death.  It  never  failed.  "  Father,  into  thy  hands  I 
commend  my  spirit,"  was  the  outpouring  of  the  same 
trust  that  had  slept  on  Mary's  breast. 

I  must  pass  over  many  things  in  the  child  spirit 
—  friendliness  and  wonder,  the  angel  of  hope  that 
spreads  its  wings  to  keep  beside  the  dancing  feet  — 
that  I  may  speak  of  joy.  There  comes  a  time  in  the 
lives  of  most  of  us  when  joy  seems  to  be  the  exception. 
We  expect  worry  and  disappointment,  pain  and  loss. 
But  it  is  not  so  with  the  child.  Those  things  are  to  it 
unnatural,  and  it  puts  them  from  it.  We  go  into  some 
house  where  death  has  come ;  the  elders  weep,  but  the 
children  laugh  or  make  a  poor  little  effort  to  keep 
quiet,  for  death  has  no  meaning  to  them.  The  nurse 
tells  them  that  the  father's  laugh  will  never  echo 
through  the  liouse  again,  that  the  mother  will  never 
stand  beside  the  bed ;  but  the  child  does  not  believe 


A    CHRISTMAS   SERMON.  81 

it.  "  Mortality  is  swallowed  up  of  life."  We,  we 
who  call  ourselves  Christians,  pity  the  children's  ig- 
norance, and  say  it  is  because  they  cannot  understand 
that  they  do  not  feel  their  loss,  that  their  ignorance 
saves  them.  No,  my  friends.  Their  ignorance  protects 
them  doubtless,  as  the  darkness  protects  the  flowers ; 
but  it  does  not  beget  that  faith  in  the  power  of  life. 
The  child's  spirit  is  the  perpetual  witness  that  life 
is  the  reality  and  death  the  accident,  that  joy  is  the 
atmosphere  in  which  the  soul  should  live,  not  sorrow. 
Tliis  was  the  life  of  the  Man  of  sorrows.  No  joy 
of  self-indulgence  can  be  compared  with  what  Jesus 
knew  through  doing  the  will  of  God.  No  thrill  of 
prosperity  was  like  the  glory  on  the  mount  when 
Jesus  heard  the  Eternal  say,  "  Thou  art  my  beloved 
Son."  No  satisfaction  of  success  was  like  the  joy  the 
Saviour  knew  when  he  saw  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and 
was  satisfied  with  it,  in  the  day  he  died  to  save  the 
world.  The  joy  of  the  little  child  whose  spirit  leaped 
up  at  the  splashing  of  the  water  in  Nazareth's  foun- 
tain, whose  soul  drank  deep  of  the  glories  of  the 
world  when  Hermon's  top  shone  in  the  Syrian  sun, 
did  not  fail,  but  found  new  sources  of  blessedness  in 
the  tears  of  the  repentant  woman  and  the  cry  of  the 
lost  soul  to  whom  he  showed  the  Father's  house. 
The  object  of  our  faith  and  hope  and  joy  must  change, 
but  the  true  human  spirit  can  mount  as  on  Jacob's 
ladder  even  to  the  throne  of  God. 


82  A    CHRISTMAS   SERMON. 

The  spirit  of  trust  and  the  spirit  of  joy,  —  that  is 
our  heritage.  There  is  not  a  querulous  and  soured 
woman  of  our  acquaintance,  not  a  suspicious  and 
disappointed  man  sitting  moody  in  his  selfish  house 
to-day,  who  did  not  begin  life  with  that  divine  gift  to 
the  human  soul,  the  spirit  of  the  little  child.  We  all 
began  as  heirs  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Which  of 
us  has  not  at  some  time  wasted  his  substance  ?  To- 
day is  the  feast  of  the  prodigal  son.  In  Jesus  human- 
ity came  to  itself.  In  Him  we  know  ourselves  as 
sons  of  God.  That  is  the  gospel  of  Christmas,  but 
the  Christmas  exhortation  is  to  place  the  little  child 
in  the  midst. 

How  is  that  to  be  done?  Look  away  from  our 
homes  for  a  moment,  where  all  is  bright  and  where 
plenty  reigns,  and  think  of  the  cold  and  hunger  and 
nakedness,  —  think  of  the  army  of  men  and  the  crowd 
of  women  who  fill  our  jails.  Listen  to  the  deep  mur- 
mur of  discontent.  Consider  what  it  means  that  this 
service  in  which  we  are  engaged  men  mock  at,  and 
say  that  the  church  is  for  the  rich,  or  at  least  for  the 
well  to  do,  —  that  our  money  is  protected  by  the 
law,  but  gotten  unjustly,  —  that  we  say  we  love  God 
whom  we  have  not  seen,  while  we  hate  our  brother 
whom  we  have  seen.  I  know  how  unjust  much  of 
this  is.  I  know  that  many  —  all  of  you  —  would  suf- 
fer no  man  to  want  if  you  could  help  him.     I  know 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON.  83 

how  much  is  done  at  this  Christmastide  to  relieve 
poverty  and  comfort  the  sick  that  the  world  knows 
notliing  of.  But  I  know  also,  my  friends,  that  the 
disease  is  deeper  than  many  of  us  suppose,  and  that  it 
cannot  be  cured  by  almsgiving.  The  misery  of  it  is, 
that  no  one  can  tell  us  how  to  prevent  the  evils  of  the 
day.  The  poor  may  not  be  growing  poorer,  —  I  do  not 
believe  they  are,  —  but  they  are  growing  more  help- 
less. I  have  no  scheme  to  offer,  but  I  would  bear  wit- 
ness on  Christ's  birthday  against  the  false  doctrine  of 
the  day,  which  says  the  way  to  help  the  world  is  to 
get  possession  of  the  world,  and  then  you  can  do  good 
with  it.  It  is  our  great  temptation.  Resist  it.  When 
you  enter  again  to-morrow  into  your  industrial  life, 
place  a  little  child  in  the  midst.  Let  the  spirit  of 
trust  in  your  Father  show  itself  in  your  work.  Say  to 
yourselves,  when  you  are  tempted  to  grasp  all  that 
your  hands  can  hold,  "  The  Lord  will  provide."  Let 
those  with  whom  you  do  the  work  of  life  see  that 
you  are  free  from  fear  and  anxiety,  and  the  panic  will 
subside.  You  did  not  rush  this  morning  to  seize  your 
gifts.  Do  not  rush  to-morrow  to  seize  the  world's 
wealth,  but  take  your  blessings  as  God's  gift,  and  then 
you  will  use  them  for  His  glory. 

Place  a  little  child  in  the  midst  of  your  social  life. 
Cultivate  the  spirit  of  friendliness,  and  cast  out  the 
spirit  of  suspicion.  A  cliild  may  grow  suspicious,  but 
it  is  unnatural.     Almost  any  child  you  pass  on  the 


84  A    CHRISTMAS   SERMON. 

street  will  answer  your  greeting  with  a  smile,  and,  if 
you  care  to  ask,  will  tell  you  what  was  in  its  stock- 
ing. Well,  let  more  of  that  spirit  come  into  our 
lives.  Try  to  believe  that  the  slights  of  life  are  acci- 
dental, that  men  mean  well.  Be  ready  to  forgive.  It 
is  not  always  easy,  but  if  you  remember  whose  child 
you  are  and  whose  child  he  is  who  has  wounded  you, 
it  can  be  done.  0  what  a  merry  winter  this  might  be, 
if  all  our  parties  were  children's  parties !  if  we  went 
here  and  there  to  rejoice  and  make  joyful,  to  forget 
our  tasks  and  punishments  and  bruises,  and  make 
the  most  of  human  friendship  in  the  household  of 
God ! 

But,  above  all,  set  the  little  child  in  the  midst  of 
your  own  hearts.  I  look  in  your  faces,  and  I  know 
that  our  Father  desires  the  peace  and  joy  of  each  one 
of  you  as  you  desire  them  for  your  children.  One 
man  fails  to  grasp  them  because  he  is  held  back  by 
some  evil  habit,  and  then  cannot  reach  them  because 
he  is  sick  with  sin ;  but  there  are  many  more  wlio 
are  filled  with  the  spirit  of  discontent.  They  moan, 
"The  circumstances  of  my  life  shut  me  iu,  and 
hinder  me  from  doing  what  I  wish  to  do."  No  doubt, 
my  friends.  But  there  are  no  circumstances  which 
keep  you  from  being  what  God  wishes  you  to  be. 
You  dream  of  some  great  work  that  you  would  like 
to  do  for  God  and  man,  —  you  are  thwarted  in  your 
plan.      Well,  now  see  if  you   cannot  be   something 


A    CHRISTMAS   SERMON.  85 

better  than  you  have  been.  "  He  that  ruleth  his  own 
spirit  is  greater  than  he  that  taketh  a  city."  The 
man  who  submits  to  the  trials  and  disappointments 
of  life  patiently  and  cheerfully  is  doing  more  for  God 
and  man  than  he  who  builds  a  monument  of  his 
energy. 

It  may  seem  a  strange  thing  to  say  to  a  Christian 
congregation,  but  I  can  think  of  no  better  thing  to 
say  to  you  on  Christmas  day  than  this.  Let  us  try 
for  to-day  to  be  Christians.  The  Christian  spirit  is 
the  child  spirit  that  looks  to  God  as  its  Father,  and 
is  strengthened ;  thinks  of  itself  as  his  child,  and  is 
comforted ;  looks  on  each  man  as  His  child  and  its 
brother,  and  loves.  And  he  that  receives  that  spirit 
receives  Christ,  and  he  that  receives  him  receives 
not  him,  but  Him  that  sent  him,  God.  So  that  the 
divine  life  that  is  in  us  may  be  born;  so  that  the 
incarnation  of  God  may  be  accomplished  in  our  lives 
this  day.  God  give  you,  my  dear  people,  that  great 
Christmas  gift  which  exceeds  all  that  we  can  desire. 


VIT. 

THE   MIRAGE   A   REALITY. 

The  Inarched  ground  shall  become  a  pool. 

Isaiah,  xxxv.  7. 

HOW  much  of  the  Bible  is  unintelligible  to  us  be- 
cause we  have  no  familiarit}'  with  the  scenery 
amid  which  it  was  written !  How  much  more  these 
words  must  have  meant  to  the  men  who  first  heard 
them  than  they  can  mean  to  us  who  have  never  seen 
a  desert !  For  the  picture  that  the  prophet  had  in 
mind  was  of  a  caravan  travelling  across  the  desert, 
and  his  hearers  had  many  of  them,  doubtless,  formed 
a  part  of  such  a  company,  and  knew  what  it  meant  to 
plod  on  over  the  fiery  sand,  hour  after  hour,  to  hear 
the  wail  of  the  children  for  water,  to  see  the  wife's 
strength  begin  to  fail,  to  hear  the  deep  cursings  of 
the  men  that  had  not  bargained  to  suffer,  and  to  feel 
their  own  strength  unequal  to  the  task  before  them. 
And  then,  suddenly,  to  see  afar  off  the  shimmering 
of  the  water,  and  by  anticipation  to  slake  the  thirst, 
to  see  the  children  revive  and  hear  them  laugh,  to 
note  the  color  return  to  the  face  of  those  they  loved, 


THE   MIRAGE   A    REALITY.  87 

to  hear  no  more  cursing,  but  thanksgiving,  from  the 
men,  to  see  the  wearied  beasts  lift  up  their  drooping 
heads,  and  all  take  courage  for  the  next  stage  of  the 
pilgrimage,  and  then  —  to  find  it  was  a  mirage,  an 
illusion  ;  that  the  veiy  heat  which  caused  the  tongue 
to  cleave  to  the  roof  of  the  mouth  had  heated  the 
burning  sand  and  parched  the  ground,  so  that  its  rajs 
meeting  with  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun  caused  the 
light  to  lie  like  a  shadow  over  the  burning  sand,  and 
make  them  believe  that  their  salvation  was  near. 

I  say  that  to  you  and  me  it  is  hard  to  understand 
the  full  meaning  of  this  prophecy,  and  in  our  ver- 
sion it  had  almost  been  hidden  away;  for  the  real 
translation  of  these  words,  my  friends,  is  not  "  The 
parched  ground  shall  become  a  pool,"  but  "The 
mirage  shall  become  a  pool." 

The  thing  that  you  have  thought  that  you  should 
see,  the  thing  that  you  believed  would  be  the  satis- 
faction of  your  life,  the  sight  of  which  had  brought 
new  vigor  to  your  limbs  and  strengthened  your  mind 
for  the  onward  journey  of  the  pilgrimage,  that,  says 
the  prophet,  shall  become  true.  Tlie  mirage,  the  illu- 
sion of  your  life,  shall  become  a  reality.  So  should 
we  translate  the  words,  "  The  parched  ground  shall 
become  a  pool." 

What  has  been  the  mirage  that  humanity  lias  seen 
in  its  journey  ?   No  one  sermon  could  begin  to  give  the 


88  THE  MIRAGE  A    REALITY. 

answer  to  that  question.  But  the  propliet  enters  into 
certain  details  that  we  might  glance  at  this  morning, 
I  trust  for  our  profit. 

The  first  thing  that  such  men  would  want  would  be 
the  slaking  of  their  thirst,  the  satisfaction  of  some 
desire.  So  he  tells  them.  The  mirage  shall  become  a 
pool,  and  the  thirsty  land  springs  of  water.  The 
thing  you  desire  you  shall  haA'e. 

Now,  might  we  not  write  all  history  on  that  text  ? 
Might  we  not  go  back  to  the  beginning  of  the  history 
of  man,  and  see  that  it  has  been  a  series  of  efforts 
succeeded  by  failure  to  gain  satisfaction  ?  Ts  not  that 
the  history  of  every  human  being  ?  We  have  all  of 
us,  my  friends,  as  humanity  at  large,  w^e  have  all  of  us 
been  struggling  from  the  beginning  to  be  satisfied. 
And  the  soul  has  said  to  itself,  If  I  can  once  lay  hold 
upon  that  particular  thing,  then  T  shall  be  satisfied. 
It  may  be  wealth,  it  may  be  honor,  it  may  be  physical 
strength,  it  may  be  popularity,  —  what  you  will.  The 
soul  has  set  before  it  some  definite  aim,  and  said,  If 
I  can  reach  that  point,  then  my  thirst  will  be  slaked 
and  my  soul  will  be  satisfied. 

And  we  have  reached  it,  but  we  were  not  satisfied. 
We  found  that  the  same  want  began  all  over  again  ; 
year  after  year,  decade  after  decade,  generation  after 
generation,  men  have  seen  a  mirage,  and  said  to 
themselves.  If  I  could  reach  that,  my  soul  would  be 
satisfied. 


THE  MIRAGE  A   REALITY.  89 

Many  a  man,  grown  old  and  weary  with  repeated 
failure,  has  said  to  his  soul,  in  the  secret  communion 
of  his  own  heart,  ''  What  is  it  that  thou  dost  desire, 
O  my  soul  ? "  With  that  sort  of  double  personality 
of  which  every  man  is  conscious,  a  man  says  to  him- 
self, "  I  have  labored  for  you,  I  have  given  up  time 
and  thought  and  energy  and  strength  to  the  heaping 
up  of  riches ;  I  have  done  this  thing  by  means  that, 
in  the  secret  of  my  own  heart,  I  do  hate  and  abhor, 
but  I  did  it  in  order  that  you,  my  soul,  which  kept 
urging  me  on,  might  at  last  be  satisfied.  And  you 
are  not  satisfied.  I  have  made  a  home.  I  have 
gathered  about  me  those  I  love.  I  have  increased 
knowledge.  I  have  widened  the  circle  of  my  friend- 
ships. But  I  am  not  satisfied.  Still  there  is  some- 
thing that  does  not  slake  the  thirst  of  my  soul." 

And  while  these  men  so  long  ago  thought  as  we  do 
now,  one  man  stood  up  in  the  midst  of  them  all,  and 
shouted  aloud,  as  if  it  were  a  great  discovery,  "  My 
soul  is  athirst  for  God."  That  is  the  trouble  with  hu- 
manity. It  is  athirst  for  God,  and  it  has  supposed 
that  it  could  satisfy  its  longings  with  the  things  that 
are  touched  and  seen.  And  the  prophet,  knowing  the 
long  struggle  and  the  repeated  failure,  looked  in  the 
faces  of  these  men,  and  said,  "  The  mirage  shall  be- 
come a  pool,"  your  satisfaction  shall  be  met. 

But  such  a  prophecy  as  that  called  men's  minds 
away  from  themselves  to  the  thought  of  others.     In- 


90  THE  MIRAGE   A   REALITY. 

dividual  salvation,  if  it  could  be  brought  to  any  one  of 
us  here  to-day,  would  not  be  enough.  The  woman 
who  knows  that  she  stands  in  the  light  of  the  love  of 
God,  but  that  her  husband  is  in  the  outer  darkness, 
the  man  who  knows  that  he  has  led  an  upright  and 
true  life,  but  that  his  son  is  turning  away  to  wick- 
edness, cannot  be  satisfied.  We  are  bound  one  to 
another.  Those  that  have  built  the  tombs  of  the 
prophets  got  no  benefit  from  those  tombs  themselves. 
They  only  witnessed  that  they  were  part  of  the  great 
past.  And  all  that  have  engaged  in  the  work  of 
building  the  monuments  which  would  perpetuate  the 
fame  of  the  present,  or  erected  works  which  would  be 
for  the  benefit  of  those  that  come  after,  have  been  de- 
claring that  no  man  could  find  the  satisfaction  of  his 
soul  in  the  completion  of  his  own  individual  life,  but 
that,  knowing  himself  to  be  a  part  of  the  great  whole, 
he  must  have  that  before  him  all  the  time  which  would 
remind  him  of  his  glorious  past  and  his  still  n^ore 
glorious  future. 

Men  wandering  as  individuals  have  felt  themselves 
lost  in  a  desert,  and  have  said,  "  0  that  there  were 
some  way  in  which  my  feet  could  stand  that  1  might 
see  the  foot-prints  of  those  that  have  gone  before  me, 
that  I  might  know  that  I  am  on  the  track  across  this 
waste  that  others  have  followed  before  me,  and  feel 
myself  a  part  of  the  company  of  those  who  knew 
whence   they  came   and    whither   they  are   going ! " 


THE  MIRAGE   A   REALITY.  91 

That  has  been  the  wish  and  hope  of  multitudes  of 
men  who  never  knew  the  answer  to  the  desire  of 
their  souls. 

Hear  the  word  of  the  prophet :  "  And  a  highway 
shall  be  there,  and  a  way,  and  the  wayfaring  man, 
though  a  fool,  shall  not  err  therein."  There  shall 
come,  says  tlie  prophet,  a  day  when  in  the  desert  a 
highway  shall  be  built,  and  men  shall  know  that  they 
are  not  wandering  in  this  trackless  waste,  with  no 
knowledge  of  the  home  from  which  they  have  come, 
and  no  understanding  of  the  end  and  object  of  the 
pilgrimage.  But  their  feet  shall  stand  on  the  way 
that  others  have  travelled  before  them,  and  they  shall 
hear  the  voice  of  the  past  saying  to  them.  This  is  the 
way,  walk  ye  in  it.  And  walking  in  that  path,  united 
with  the  great  company  of  pilgrims  who  have  been 
through  the  same  experiences,  known  the  same  sor- 
rows, been  beckoned  on  by  the  same  mirage,  they 
shall  have  strength  and  hope  and  comfort  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  this  great  companionship  of  the  redeemed 
who  walk  on  the  highway  of  their  God. 

Again,  we  look  back  over  the  long  history  of  the 
race,  and  we  find  that  something  else  is  needed. 

If  we  could  see  to-day  the  camp  in  which  the  earli- 
est forms  of  civilization  were  gathered,  before  cities 
were  built,  or  roads  were  laid,  or  empires  dreamed  of, 
we  should  find  that  the  camp  encircled  itself  at  night 


92  THE  MIRAGE  A   REALITY. 

with  fire,  while  without  were  the  beasts  roaring  for 
their  prey,  causing  the  little  children  to  nestle  close 
to  the  father  who  could  protect  them,  causing  the 
women  to  shudder,  and  even  strong  men  to  ask  them- 
selves. May  the  fiery  barrier  be  broken  down,  and  the 
beasts  that  are  outside  the  camp  invade  us  and  de- 
stroy what  we  love  ? 

0,  how  these  men  and  women  and  children  must 
have  looked  at  one  another,  and  said.  Will  it  ever 
come  to  pass  that  there  shall  be  a  wall  built  that  will 
keep  out  the  beasts  ?  Will  it  ever  be  that  men  will 
dwell  under  anything  stronger  than  the  black  tent, 
the  skin  of  the  beast  that  we  have  stretched  on 
poles  ? 

0  the  illusion,  the  mirage,  as  it  must  have  seemed 
to  them,  of  stately  cities  and  strong  walls,  and  beasts 
forever  banished  from  the  land  I  But  the  prophet  said, 
"No  lion  shall  be  there,  nor  any  ravenous  beast;  they 
shall  not  be  found  there,  but  the  redeemed  shall 
walk  there."  The  day  will  come  when  the  people 
shall  know  that  they  are  protected,  when  fear  shall 
be  taken  away  from  them. 

The  fear  of  what  ?  Of  beasts  ?  Not  that  alone, 
for  when  the  beasts  were  banished  from  the  land,  there 
was  man  to  be  afraid  of.  And  the  children  said.  Who 
will  protect  us  from  the  enemy  ?  And  the  father  said, 
I  will.  And  then  the  father  came  to  die.  And  he 
rolled  despairing  eyes   and  cried.  Ay,  but  who  will 


THE  MIRAGE  A   REALITY.  93 

protect  me  now  ?  I  must  go  into  the  unseen  land, 
and  face  the  shadows  that  I  now  behold.  Who  will 
protect  me  now  ?  And  the  priests  in  every  land 
stood  by  those  men,  and  said,  I  will  protect  you. 
And  the  priest  said  to  himself.  Who  will  protect 
me,  —  not  from  the  beast,  not  from  men,  not  from 
the  spirits  that  may  haunt  me,  not  from  hell,  but 
from  siyi?  Who  will  keep  me  from  the  corruption  of 
sin,  —  worse  than  any  evil  that  the  world  has  ever 
seen  or  dreamed  of  ?  Will  the  day  ever  come  when 
asking  who  will  save  me  from  sin  and  make  me  what 
I  desire  to  be,  there  will  stand  by  me  one  who  will 
say,  I  will  ?  The  prophet  said.  The  mirage  shall 
become  a  pool.  That  which  seems  impossible  shall 
surely  come  to  pass. 

Once  more.  On  the  journey  much  was  lost,  much 
was  suffered,  much  endured.  And  the  pilgrim  who 
stepped  out  so  blithely  at  the  beginning  of  the  march 
was  found  at  the  end  to  be  an  old  man,  his  head 
whitened,  and  all  over  his  face  and  body  written  the 
history  of  the  long  conflict,  the  hope  deferred  that 
maketh  the  heart  sick,  the  disappointment  and  weari- 
ness and  sorrow,  the  hatred  of  those  whom  he  had 
tried  to  help  along  the  journey,  the  fear  in  his  own 
heart  that  it  was  all  an  illusion. 

So  at  the  last  there  was  something  more  needed  for 
these  weary  men.  Was  all  that  had  been  dropped  on 
the  journey  to  be  gathered  up  again  ?     Was  all  that 


94  THE  MIRAGE  A   REALITY. 

had  been  suffered  to  have  its  reward  ?  The  prophet 
said,  The  mirage  shall  become  a  pool.  What  you 
have  dreamed  of  joy  and  peace  and  glory  shall  be 
your  portion.  For  "  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall 
return,  and  come  to  Zion  with  songs  and  everlasting 
joy  upon  their  heads."  All  that  you  have  dreamed  of, 
says  the  prophet,  of  joy  and  peace  and  happiness  and 
glory,  the  company  of  those  you  have  loved  and  lost, 
the  earnest  desire  for  purity,  the  longing  for  compan- 
ionship, the  satisfaction  of  the  soul,  —  all  these  things, 
says  the  prophet,  shall '  be  yours.  The  mirage,  the 
illusion,  shall  become  a  reality. 

These  words  were  spoken  thousands  of  years  ago. 
What  I  would  like  to  ask  you  is.  How  shall  we  read 
them  to-day  ?  Have  they  become  true  ?  Is  it  true 
that  the  thirsty  soul  has  been  satisfied  ?  Is  it  true 
that  there  is  a  highway  in  the  desert,  and  that  the 
w^ayfaring  man  need  not  err  therein  ?  Is  it  true  that 
no  lion  is  there,  nor  any  ravenous  beast,  but  that  in 
the  consciousness  of  safety  men  are  making  their 
journey  ?  Is  it  true  that  the  redeemed  do  return  and 
come  to  Zion  w^ith  everlasting  joy  upon  their  heads, 
and  that  sorrow  and  sighing  flee  away  ? 

My  friends,  if  you  and  I,  with  the  experience  that 
we  have  had  of  life,  and  the  knowledge  of  what  life 
is  to-day,  with  all  that  there  is  to  its  disadvantage, 
with  all  the  disappointments,  with  all  that  makes  up 


THE  MIRAGE  A    REALITY.  95 

the  weariness  and  the  burden  of  life, — if  you  and  1 
could  have  stood  in  the  presence  of  the  people  that 
heard  the  prophet  speak,  and  have  told  them,  out  of 
the  experience  of  our  inmost  hearts,  what  we  feel  and 
know,  there  would  have  gone  up  one  shout  from  that 
assembled  host,  and  they  would  have  said,  "  The  Mes- 
siah has  come.  The  things  of  which  the  prophets 
spoke  have  come  to  pass,  if  the  things  that  you  say 
are  true." 

Are  these  things  true  ?  Why,  look  into  your  own 
experiences,  and  think  for  a  moment,  not  of  your  sor- 
rows nor  trials  nor  temptations,  not  of  the  weari- 
ness and  disappointment  of  life,  but  of  its  glory,  and 
see  if  what  the  prophet  said  be  not  true.  See  if  it 
is  not  true  that  things  that  in  that  day  seemed  an 
illusion  are  to-day  the  realities  of  life.  See  if  what 
Jesus  said  be  not  true :  "  I  tell  you  that  many  proph- 
ets and  kings  have  desired  to  see  those  things  which 
ye  see,  and  have  not  seen  them ;  and  to  hear  those 
things  which  ye  hear,  and  have  not  heard  them." 

What  have  we  seen,  and  what  have  we  heard  ? 
Why,  my  friends,  multitudes  of  men  and  women, 
some  of  them  in  this  church  this  morning,  know 
what  it  is  to  have  the  satisfaction  of  the  soul,  God 
with  us ;  the  knowledge  that  our  sins  have  been 
pardoned,  that  they  shall  never  rise  up  in  judgment 
to  meet  us ;  the  assurance  of  God's  undying  love ; 
the  knowledge  of  the  sympathy  of  Him  who  was  cru- 


96  THE  MIRAGE  A   REALITY. 

cified  for  us;  the  consciousness  that  God  is  about  us 
and  by  us  and  in  us,  —  is  the  pool  at  which  our  thirsty 
souls  do  drink.  Is  it  not  so  ?  Has  it  not  been  found 
so  by  many  a  soul  to  whom  I  speak  to-day  ? 

And  the  way.  Have  we  not  that  way  ?  There  arc 
men  and  women  who  are  lost,  men  and  women  who 
are  wandering  through  this  world,  not  knowing  where 
they  came  from  nor  whither  they  are  going.  But  is  it 
true  of  those  who  have  been  drawn  to  the  company  of 
Jesus  Christ  ?  Are  their  feet  not  upon  the  way  that 
leads  to  eternal  life  ?  Can  we  not  look  hack  over 
this  way  of  the  Church  of  the  living  God,  and  know 
ourselves  one  with  the  company  of  those  that  first 
preached  God,  of  those  that  suffered  persecution,  of 
those  that  redeemed  Western  Europe,  of  those  that 
stood  in  the  fires  of  the  Reformation,  of  those  that 
have  preached  in  this  land,  and  of  those  that  are 
to-day  the  descendants  of  the  blessed  company  of 
faithful  people  ?  Are  we  not  one  of  them  ?  Is  not 
that  the  patent  of  nobility  that  every  Christian  carries 
within  his  own  life  ? 

Who  would  give  it  up  ?  Those  who  do  not  know 
it  think  that  it  is  a  mirage.  Those  who  know  noth- 
ing of  it  wonder  why  Christian  people  gather  about 
the  table  of  the  Lord,  kneeling  side  by  side,  declar- 
ing themselves  the  disciples  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
gather  week  after  week  to  hear  his  word  and  to  sing 
his  praise.     They  wonder  why  it  is  done.     But  those 


THE  MIRAGE  A   REALITY.  97 

of  you  who  have  entered  into  the  company  of  tlie  dis- 
ciples of  the  Master  know  why  it  is  done.  You  know 
that  your  feet  are  on  the  highway,  and  though  you 
may  be  a  fool  in  many  things,  yet  you  shall  not  err 
from  the  way  of  salvation.  It  is  the  way  that  comes 
from  God  and  leads  to  God,  the  way  of  Jesus  Christ 
the  Saviour. 

And  protection.  It  is  hard  for  us  to  picture  to  our- 
selves what  it  must  have  been  for  the  camp  to  hear 
the  roar  of  the  beasts.  It  is  equally  hard  for  us  to 
picture  to  ourselves  what  it  must  have  been  for  the 
Church  of  the  early  days  and  of  medigeval  times  to 
gather  with  the  belief  that  all  the  forest  was  full 
of  demons  and  evil  spirits.  It  is  hard  for  us  to  un- 
derstand the  meaning  of  the  prayer  that  carries  us 
back  and  unites  us  with  those  that  have  gone  before  : 
"  Save  us,  0  Lord,  from  sudden  death.  Grant,  Lord, 
that  in  our  last  hour  we  may  not,  for  any  pains  of 
death,  fall  from  thee."  It  goes  back  to  the  time  when 
men  were  taken  out  suddenly  from  their  homes,  and, 
in  the  awful,  agony  of  death  by  burning,  sometimes 
fell  from  Jesus  Christ. 

I  am  glad  the  words  remain,  that  they  may  help  us 
to  lift  up  our  hearts  to  God  and  thank  him  for  the 
protection  of  his  people.  We  are  not  afraid  of  death, 
for  Jesus  died.  We  are  not  afraid  of  hell,  for  he 
descended  into  hell.  We  are  not  afraid  of  God  nor 
of  God's  judgment,  for  it  is  the  judgment  of  a  father. 

7 


98  THE  MIRAGE  A   REALITY. 

We  are  not  afraid  of  anything  but  sin,  and  says  the 
Apostle,  ''Sin  shall  not  have  dominion  over  you. 
You  are  not  under  the  laAv ;  you  are  under  grace." 
Christ  is  personally  helping  every  one  of  us.  What 
can  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God  ?  Can  death  ? 
Can  sickness  ?  Can  sorrow  ?  Nothing  can  separate 
us  from  the  love  of  God  which  is  in  Jesus  Christ. 

Then  what  follows  ?  Why,  death  and  life  and  all 
things  are  yours.  You  are  the  kings,  and  these 
things  that  you  have  feared  are  your  servants,  and 
every  one  of  them  can  be  used.  Physical  sickness, 
mental  weariness,  the  sorrowful  heart,  the  failing 
limb,  the  dying  breath,  ay,  the  experiences  that 
shall  come  when  this  life  is  over,  are  the  servants 
that  belong  to  the  kings  that  God  has  redeemed 
through  Christ.  Nothing  shall  separate  us  from  his 
love.  We  have  no  cause  for  fear.  "  No  lion  shall 
be  there,  nor  any  ravenous  beast,  but  the  redeemed 
shall  walk  there." 

And  if  I  have  not  wearied  you,  may  1  say  one  word 
more  ? 

The  promise  and  prophecy  of  joy,  —  have  we  not 
known  it?  It  is  not  true  that  sorrow  and  sighing 
have  left  the  world,  but  has  not  the  sorrow  and  has 
not  the  sighing  fled  away  from  you,  as  you  have  en- 
tered into  the  communion  of  your  God  ?  Have  you 
not  come  to  Zion  with  everlasting  joy  upon  your 
head,  as  you  have  remembered,  not  the  special  things 


THE  MIRAGE  A   REALITY.  99 

for  which  you  ought  to  be  thankful,  but  as  it  has 
been  borne  in  upon  you  that  you  belong  to  God  and 
God  to  you,  and  that  the  glory  and  beauty  of  life  is 
not  in  doing  God's  will  as  a  hard  law,  but  in  doing 
God's  will  because  you  have  come  to  love  God's  will  ? 
1  do  not  say  we  live  that  way.  I  say  that  every 
Christian  man  and  woman  has  at  some  moment  in 
his  life,  perhaps  in  the  hour  of  his  deepest  bereave- 
ment, come  to  Zion  with  everlasting  joy  upon  his 
head. 

My  friends,  the  prophecy  is  not  to  come  true ;  the 
prophecy  has  come  true.  What  the  prophet  said  was 
that  these  things  should  come,  —  the  satisfaction  of 
human  want,  the  consciousness  that  the  feet  were  on 
the  everlasting  way,  the  protection  from  all  evil, 
and  the  everlasting  joy  of  Zion  in  the  days  of  the 
Messiah. 

And  now  if  you  ask  me  whether  this  prophecy 
rests  upon  any  principle,  and  whether  its  fulfilment 
has  got  anything  back  of  it  but  the  individual  hope 
that  it  may  be  true,  I  answer  you,  Yes,  it  has.  It 
has  the  revelation  of  God  in  the  incarnation  of  Jesus 
Christ  that  man  and  God  are  one.  And  because  man 
and  God  are  one,  therefore  the  mirage  that  human- 
ity has  beheld  is  the  reflection  of  the  refracted  rays 
of  the  will  of  God  passing  through  the  medium  of 
human  life.  And  every  man  who  has  purified  him- 
self is,  in  his  own  day  and  according  to  his  capacity, 


100  THE  MIRAGE   A    REALITY. 

some  sort  of  revelation,  not  of  his  own  will,  but  of 
God's  will  revealed  through  him. 

Suppose  every  one  of  us  here  this  morning  were  to 
write  upon  the  Avails  of  this  church  the  inmost  wish 
of  his  heart.  How  many  of  us  would  be  willing  that 
they  should  stand  there  and  all  turn  and  read  what 
we  desire  ?  Many,  many  a  thing  we  would  blot  out 
rather  than  any  one  should  know  it.  Therefore  it  is 
not  yours.  But  tlie  inmost  desire  of  your  soul,  the 
thing  that  really  dee})  down  in  your  own  heart  you 
want,  —  that,  my  friends,  shall  be  yours.  "  The  mi- 
rage shall  become  a  pool."  The  satisfaction  of  your 
soul  you  shall  know,  because  you  are  God's  and  God 
is  yours. 

Is  not  that  what  St.  John  meant,  when  he  wrote, 
in  that  wonderful  fifth  chapter  of  his  first  Epistle, 
"And  this  is  the  confidence  that  we  have  in  him, 
that,  if  we  ask  any  thing  according  to  his  will,  he 
heareth  us :  and  if  we  know  that  he  hear  us,  whatso- 
ever we  ask,  we  know  that  we  have  the  petitions  that 
we  desired  of  him  "  ?  Because  your  will,  your  prayer, 
purified  from  selfishness,  is  no  longer  your  will  or 
your  prayer.  "  The  spirit  helpeth  our  infirmities," 
and  "  maketh  intercession  for  us  with  groanings  which 
cannot  be  uttered."  It  is  the  divine  life  in  us,  pass- 
ing through  us,  that  causes  the  mirage  to  appear  in 
our  pilgrimage.  Man's  will  projecting  itself  on  the 
future  shimmers  above  tlie  burning  sand,  but  it  could 


THE  MIRAGE  A   REALITY.  101 

not  be  were  it  not  that  it  had  mingled  with  the  rays 
of  the  light  of  the  will  of  God. 

The  prophecy  has  come  true,  and  yet  it  is  as  noth- 
ing compared  with  that  which  shall  be  in  the  day 
when  we  know  him  more  than  we  know  him  now. 

What  should  be  our  attitude  ?  One  of  unbounded 
thankfulness  that  he  has  seen  fit  to  reveal  himself  to 
us  as  our  Father,  and  ourselves  as  his  sons.  One  of 
unflinching  courage,  one  of  undying  hope ;  for  every 
glorious  vision  that  humanity  has  had  upon  its  pil- 
grimage of  personal  joy,  of  larger  truth,  of  nobler 
civilization,  of  human  glory,  shall,  in  God's  good 
time,  be  fulfilled,  because  it  is  not  the  will  of  man, 
it  is  the  will  of  God. 


YIII. 

SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE. 

Seeing  hiin  ivho  is  invisible.  —  Hebrews,  xi.  27. 

npHESE  words  remind  us  of  many  of  the  sayings 
^  of  Jesus.  They  are  paradoxical.  They  are 
apparently  contradictory.  How  is  it  possible  to  see 
that  which  is  invisible,  —  to  see  that  which  cannot  be 
seen  ?  Let  us  ask  ourselves,  then,  first  of  all.  What 
is  sight? 

We  speak  of  it  as  if  it  were  a  very  simple  thing. 
There  is  no  one  thing  of  which  we  are  more  sure  than 
that  we  see  an  object  which  is  before  our  face.  And 
yet,  when  we  come  to  look  into  it,  we  find  that  it  is  a 
very  complicated  process.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  me- 
chanical. You  and  I  see  simply  because  light  has 
caused  a  reflection  to  be  cast  from  some  given  object 
upon  the  retina  of  the  eye ;  and  there  it  is,  photo- 
graphed, as  we  say.  It  is  a  purely  mechanical  pro- 
cess.    It  is  the  work  of  light. 

Now  think  how  many  objects  there  are  imprinted 
at  a  given  moment  on  the  background  of  the  eye  by 
this  mechanical  process  of  sight.     But  together  with 


SEEING    THE   INVISIBLE.  103 

it  goes  a  spiritual  act,  the  fixing  of  the  attention. 
For  out  of  this  great  multitude  of  objects  crowded 
upon  the  minute  canvas  of  which  we  speak,  the  mind 
fixes  its  attention  upon  one,  and  declares  that  it 
sees  it. 

You  stand  side  by  side  with  your  friend  under  the 
sky  at  night,  and  he  says,  See  that  wonderful  star. 
And  you  look ;  you  turn  this  way  and  that  way,  and 
and  at  last  you  say,  Ah  I  I  see.  What  does  that 
mean  ?  Does  it  mean  that  in  the  moment  when  you 
declare  that  you  behold,  —  that  then  the  image  is  im- 
printed upon  the  eye  ?  Not  so.  The  image  was 
there ;  all  that  the  light  reflected  was  painted  upon 
the  background  of  the  eye ;  and  you  saw  the  very 
moment  that  you  fixed  your  attention  upon  that 
one  particular  object  which  your  friend  desired  you 
to  see. 

Think,  then,  what  a  wonderful  process  it  is  that 
is  going  on  all  the  time,  this  manifestation  of  objects 
by  the  power  of  light.  The  baby  opens  its  eyes,  and 
what  is  imprinted  there  ?  The  light  touches  Mount 
Washington,  and  it  stoops  to  enter  under  the  baby's 
brow.  The  myriad  waves  that  dance  at  sea  reduce 
themselves  to  tiny  specks,  and  are  painted  on  this 
little  canvas.  The  child  does  not  see  them,  yet  they 
are  all  there.  The  great  picture  of  human  life,  ani- 
mals and  trees,  far-stretching  fields,  men  and  women 
walking,  little  children  playing,  clouds  sailing  over 


104  SEEING    THE   INVISIBLE. 

head,  the  bending  of  the  trees  as  they  whisper  to  one 
another,  —  all  these  things  are  on  the  background  of 
the  baby's  eye.  What  does  the  little  one  see  ?  It 
does  not  see,  properly  speaking,  anything  until  the 
day  when  it  has  the  power  to  fix  its  attention  upon 
one  particular  object,  and,  singling  it  out  from  all 
the  rest,  deliver  itself  up  to  the  contemplation  of  its 
meaning. 

See,  then,  what  this  thing  means.  We  speak  of 
seeing  objects.  You  say,  I  see  you  speaking  to  me 
now.  I  say,  I  see  you  listening.  I  think  that  I  see 
the  church  in  which  we  are.  I  think  that  I  saw  the 
trees  under  which  we  walked  this  morning  on  our 
way  to  church.  I  think  that  I  shall  see  the  stars 
to-night.  T  think  that  I  shall  behold  men  walking 
in  these  streets.  Yet  none  of  these  things  is  true. 
We  see  nothing.  We  see  in  every  case  an  image  of 
an  object  that  we  declare  we  see. 

Properly  speaking,  everything  is  in  itself  invisible. 
It  has  no  power  of  making  itself  seen.  We  have  no 
power  of  seeing  it.  We  think  that  sight  is  tlie  one 
sense  that  goes  out  from  the  human  body  and  deals 
with  objects  apart  from  self.  But  it  is  not  so.  It  is 
in  the  truest  sense  the  most  internal  of  the  senses. 
It  brings  all  these  various  things  to  itself,  and,  look- 
ing on  their  image,  expresses  an  opinion  about  their 
size  and  form.  Note  that,  I  beg.  Properly  speak- 
ing, I  say,  all  things  are  invisible  ;  and  all  that  you 


SEEING    THE   INVISIBLE.  105 

and  I  have  ever  seen  was  tlie  image  of  an  object 
that  had  been  revealed  to  us  by  tlie  interpreter, 
light.  Thus  we  stand :  there  is  an  object,  an  image 
of  which  light  reveals  within  us.  When  we  think 
of  the  image,  we  say  we  see  the  object,  and  so,  in 
a  sense,  we  do.  But,  strictly  speaking,  the  object  is 
invisible. 

How,  then,  can  we  know  the  reality  of  any  one  of 
these  objects  that  we  declare  we  see  ?  There  is 
nothing  that  we  are  more  certain  of  than  the  exist- 
ence of  objects  which  we  declare  we  see.  Yet  upon 
what  does  this  certainty  rest  ?  Seeing  nothing,  see- 
ing only  an  image  that  is  reflected  upon  the  back- 
ground of  the  eye,  contemplating  that  image,  we 
come  to  a  conclusion  about  its  form,  or  color,  or  size. 
Yet  how  can  we  be  sure  that  any  one  of  these  objects 
answers  really  to  the  image  of  it  that  we  are  con- 
templating ?  We  cannot  be  sure.  It  is  in  such  a 
moment  as  this  that  we  feel  the  profound  truth  of 
the  saying  of  Paul,  "We  walk  not  by  sight,  but  by 
faith."  We  believe,  by  a  conviction  so  strong  that 
nothing  can  shake  it,  that  there  is  a  reality  answer- 
ing to  these  images  which  we  contemplate.  But  be- 
yond that  no  man  can  go.  We  simply  believe,  and, 
believing,  we  declare  we  know. 

So,  then,  the  paradox  of  the  text  is  the  statement 
of  a  very  simple  experience  and  of  a  very  profound 
truth.     We  have  the  power  of  seeing  the  invisible. 


106  SEEING    THE  INVISIBLE. 

And  now  consider  the  influence  of  the  vision  of 
the  invisible.  Here  is  a  man  vexed  and  wearied  with 
the  tiring  routine  of  life,  worn  and  fretted  bj  petty 
cares,  frightened  and  oppressed  by  a  great  anxiety, 
weary,  despondent,  hopeless ;  and  he  wanders  out 
into  the  fields.  He  sees  the  flowers  growing  on 
every  side.  He  hears  the  birds  sing  from  the  thicket. 
He  notes  the  power  and  glory  of  the  oak.  He  stands 
under  the  shadow  of  the  mountain.  He  looks  across 
the  great  expanse  of  the  sea.  And  this  sight  of  the 
image  of  invisible  nature  brings  to  his  soul  a  sense 
of  peace,  and  power,  and  comfort. 

What  an  experience  that  has  been !  How  it  has 
grown  and  expanded !  How  it  has  been  illuminated 
by  the  poets!  How  it  has  been  preached  by  the 
painters !  How  it  has  been  told  from  lip  to  lip 
through  all  the  ages,  since  the  Greeks  stood  by  the 
laughing  sea,  and  the  Jews  looked  up  to  the  moun- 
tains about  Jerusalem  and  remembered  the  encir- 
cling power  of  God,  —  since  the  Swiss  peasants  felt 
stronger  and  freer  on  their  mountain  side,  and  the 
men  of  the  West  felt  their  souls  expanding  under 
the  influence  of  the  wide  stretch  of  their  prairies! 

So  it  has  been  through  all  the  history  of  mankind. 
The  seeing  of  invisible  nature  has  brought  comfort, 
and  a  sense  of  power,  and  a  sense  of  dignity,  and  a 
larger  hope,  that  have  been  the  glory  and  the  com- 
fort of  mankind. 


SEEING    THE  INVISIBLE.  107 

And  it  has  not  been  only  in  the  presence  of  the 
scene  which  specially  attracted  them,  that  these  men 
have  felt  its  power.  It  has  come  to  men  who  found 
themselves  far  from  the  sea,  as  a  memory  of  what 
it  was  in  their  boyhood.  It  has  come  to  men  who 
grew  up  under  the  mountain  shadow,  and  now  live 
on  some  desolate  plain.  It  has  come  to  those  who 
have  been  banished  into  some  far-off  land,  —  the 
memory  of  the  sweet  meadow,  and  the  darkling- 
wood,  and  the  rippling  stream,  and  the  solemn  sea, 
and  the  vast  expanse  of  plain.  These  things  have 
all  been  seen  by  men  who  have  not  been  near  them 
for  many  years,  and  the  sight  of  that  invisible  nature 
has  been  to  them  comfort,  and  power,  and  peace. 

Or  look  at  it  again  in  the  sight  of  the  invisible 
among  men.  The  child  goes  out  to  play,  and  is 
tempted  to  do  some  deed  that  it  knows  is  wrong; 
and  in  that  very  moment  there  comes,  as  plainly  as 
if  she  stood  before  it,  the  image  of  the  mother.  The 
child  sees  the  sweet,  strong,  tender  face,  full  of  sor- 
row, full  of  pity,  at  the  sight  of  the  evil  that  the 
child  is  about  to  do.  Or  it  sees  the  father,  strong, 
stern,  forbidding,  and  yet  full  of  love  and  tenderness. 
And  the  child  says,  I  cannot  do  this  thing.  I  have 
seen  the  father;  I  have  seen  the  mother;  and  in 
that  sight  the  wickedness  that  I  had  in  mind  has 
been  revealed  to  me.     I  cannot  do  this  thing. 

That  sight  of  the  invisible  never  ceases  to  have  an 


108  SEEING    THE  INVISIBLE. 

influence  upon  life.  The  youth  sees  it  when  he  comes 
to  some  great  city,  and  enters  into  its  glare,  and  feels 
the  power  of  its  temptations.  Suddenly  some  day 
there  comes  before  his  mind  a  sight  of  the  sweet, 
pure  village  girl,  to  whom  he  has  spoken  of  his  love 
before  he  started  off  to  win  his  fortune ;  and  in  the 
glare  and  shame  of  the  city's  life  he  sees  her  stand- 
ing, and  his  heart  turns  back,  and  he  says,  I  cannot 
do  this  thing.  The  influence  of  the  unseen !  It 
has  the  power  to  bring  a  man  out  of  shame  and  cor- 
ruption, repentant  and  humble,  back  to  purity  and 
peace. 

The  man  goes  forth  to  his  labor,  and  engages  in 
the  great  struggle  of  existence  for  fortune  and  place, 
and  some  day  he  is  hard  beset.  A  temptation  comes 
to  him  to  do  a  little  wrong  to  gain  a  great  riglit.  Tt 
is  so  easy.  It  never  would  be  known.  No  human 
being  will  ever  find  that  he  has  done  an  unworthy 
thing,  and  if  he  does  it,  then  there  is  fortune  for  him- 
self, and  luxury  for  his  wife,  and  advantages  for  his 
children.  And  suddenly  he  sees  them,  sees  the  wife 
and  sees  the  children,  remembers  what  they  are, — 
remembers  how  his  wife  believes  in  him,  how  his  chil- 
dren trust  him,  —  and  knows  that  in  the  day  he  does 
that  evil  deed  he  can  never  be  the  same  again,  never 
can  respond  to  the  love  of  his  wife,  never  can  answer 
to  the  trust  of  his  children,  as  he  has  done  in  the  old 
days.     And  he  says,  I  cannot  do  this  thing.     The 


SEEING    THE   INVISIBLE.  109 

sight  of  the  invisible  has  saved  him  from  shame  and 
sin,  and  an  abiding  remorse. 

We  need  not  multiply  illustrations  of  this  truth. 
It  must  be  familiar  to  us  all,  —  the  power  of  the  in- 
visible. The  remembrance  of  nature  whose  image 
we  have  seen ;  of  the  mother  and  father  whom  we 
have  looked  upon ;  of  the  wife  and  children  whom 
we  have  known;  —  these  visions  of  memory  have  a 
power  that  every  thoughtful  man  must  recognize. 

And  now  let  us  go  one  step  farther.  The  Bible 
is  the  history  of  men  who  had  visions  of  the  invisi- 
ble God.  If  I  have  made  myself  clear  in  what  has 
gone  before,  you  will  see  at  once,  my  friends,  that 
the  vision  of  God,  like  the  vision  of  nature,  must  be, 
not  the  sight  of  some  external  thing,  but  the  insight 
of  something  that  is  altogether  internal.  You  see 
God  as  you  see  the  mountains  and  the  waves,  not 
outside  of  yourself,  but  within  yourself.  And  it  is 
because  of  this  that  the  revelation  of  God  depicted 
in  the  Scriptures  is  the  revelation  of  a  continual 
process,  an  endless  progress,  where  men  saw  God 
more  and  more  as  he  was  in  his  eternal  glory,  but 
saw  him  partially  only,  inasmuch  as  they  were  able 
but  partially  to  receive  the  reflection  of  the  Divine 
image  upon  the  background  of  their  souls. 

It  was  not  different  gods  that  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob,  Moses,  and  the  judges,  and  the  kings  and 


110  SEEING   THE  INVISIBLE. 

the  prophets  saw.  It  was  the  same  yesterday,  to-day, 
and  forever.  And  yet  Abraham  saw  not  the  God  of 
Solomon ;  he  saw  the  mighty  and  righteous  Judge. 
And  Isaac  had  a  vision  of  one  who  offers  himself  in 
sacrifice.  And  Jacob  saw  One  who  was  a  Wrestler, 
wounding  that  he  might  heal.  Moses  saw  him  who 
is  invisible,  and,  behold,  he  was  the  same  that  had 
been  beheld  by  the  patriarchs,  and  yet  he  was  dif- 
ferent. It  was  like  the  sight  which  we  get  of  the 
sunset  behind  a  great  range  of  hills.  We  see  the 
sun  set,  and  all  the  western  sky  flames  with  glory. 
And  then  we  go  a  little  farther  on  our  way,  and  we 
see  that  night  is  apparently  come.  And  then  we 
march  still  farther  to  the  north,  and,  behold,  the  sun 
is  now  just  setting  again  in  this  valley  that  has 
opened  between  the  mountain  peaks.  It  is  not  a  new 
sun  that  we  have  seen ;  it  is  not  a  new  sunset  that 
we  have  seen  ;  it  is  the  same.  And  yet  the  revelation 
of  its  glory  and  its  beauty  is  different  in  every  case. 

So  was  it  with  these  men.  The  Eternal  One  that 
Moses  saw  was  greater  and  nobler  and  more  splendid 
than  the  Judge  of  Abraham,  or  the  Sacrifice  of  Isaac, 
or  the  Wrestler  of  Jacob.  So  we  might  follow  it  all 
through  the  Old  Testament  history,  and  see  that 
this  seeing  of  the  invisible  has  been,  to  each  age  and 
to  each  individual,  a  new  and  more  splendid  revela- 
tion of  the  Eternal  God.  But  this  sight  of  the  in- 
visible was  confined  to  certain  individuals;  and  at 


SEEING    THE   INVISIBLE.  Ill 

last  the  belief  took  possession  of  men  that  it  was 
within  the  power,  not  of  every  man,  but  only  of  a 
chosen  few,  to  see  the  Lord  in  his  glory.  It  was  the 
very  mark  of  the  elect  that  they  were  permitted  to 
behold  God  face  to  face. 

And  then  came  Jesus.  And  he  had  a  vision  of  the 
invisible  that  gathered  up  within  itself  all  the  fea- 
tures of  the  picture  that  had  gone  before,  and  yet 
expanded  and  ennobled  it  until,  in  the  sublime  sim- 
plicity of  his  revelation,  God  was  revealed  as  the 
Father  of  mankind,  the  Father  of  every  human  soul, 
so  that  every  soul  might  see  Him  who  is  invisible. 
From  that  day  the  sight  of  God  has  been,  not  the 
portion  of  a  favored  few,  but  the  possibility  of  all 
men,  the  reality  to  untold  multitudes. 

And  now  what  should  be  the  effect  of  such  a  rev- 
elation as  this  ?  If  we  look  back  over  the  stories  of 
the  men  whose  lives  are  recorded  in  the  Bible,  we 
can  see  very  distinctly  that  the  effect  in  every  case 
was  something  profound.  So  ought  it  to  be  with  us. 
But  what  sight  do  we  need  ?  What  sight  of  the 
invisible  is  it  necessary  that  you  and  I  should  have  in 
order  that  our  lives  may  be  effectually  changed  ?  It 
depends  upon  how  we  stand. 

Here  is  a  life  that  has  suddenly  become  conscious 
of  the  fact  that  it  is  living  in  awful  sin.  What  is  it 
that  that  life  needs  to  see,  my  friends  ?     It  needs  to 


112  SEEING    THE  INVISIBLE. 

see  him  who  is  the  Saviour.  It  needs  to  see  him  in 
order  that  the  power  of  God's  pardon  may  rest  upon 
the  soul,  in  order  that  the  glory  of  God's  liope  may 
illuminate  it,  in  order  that  the  power  of  the  Eternal 
may  strengthen  it.  0,  how  dreadful  it  is  when  we 
look  into  the  face  of  any  soul  that  has  suddenly 
become  conscious  of  the  horror  and  darkness  and 
misery  and  degradation  of  its  sin,  but  to  whom  no 
sight  of  the  invisible  has  come !  There  is  the  wail- 
ing and  gnashing  of  teeth ;  there  is  the  outer  dark- 
ness, into  which  no  soul  can  enter  without  a  fearful 
trembling  from  the  sympathy  that  is  begotten  by  the 
sight  of  such  great  agony.  Do  you  think  it  is  a 
thing  that  is  to  come  only  at  the  end  of  the  world  ? 
Do  you  think  it  is  an  experience  which  came  only  in 
the  days  of  old  ?  As  you  turn  to  the  biographies 
of  men  like  Bunyan,  and  hear  how  the  sense  of  the 
awfulness  of  sin  shook  their  souls,  ay,  shook  their 
very  limbs  with  terror  and  apprehension,  do  you 
think  that  it  is  a  nervous  affection  that  has  passed 
away,  or  that  it  is  to  be  experienced  perchance  here- 
after, in  some  great  excitement  of  the  human  race  ? 
I  tell  you  no.  1  tell  you  that  that  thing  is  going  on 
in  this  city  to-day ;  that  there  are  men  and  women 
here  this  morning  who  know  the  horror  and  the 
agony  of  the  discovery  of  sin. 

Now  what  can  we  do   for   them  ?     Do  not  let   us 
try  to  soothe  them  by  telling  them  that  sin  is  not  an 


SEEING    THE   INVISIBLE.  113 

awful  thing;  do  not  let  us  talk  to  them  as  if  they 
were  nervous  and  apprehensive,  and  as  if  there  were 
no  reality  answering  to  their  apprehension.  Let  us 
admit  that  which  is  true,  that  this  horror  has  fallen 
upon  them  because  of  their  wickedness.  But  let  us 
try  to  reveal  to  them  the  everlasting  pardon,  the  eter- 
nal love,  and  the  almighty  power  that  are  lying  hid- 
den on  the  background  of  their  souls,  reflected  by  the 
glory  of  God's  spirit  shining  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
Christ,  shining  into  their  lives.  If  they  would  but 
fix  their  attention  upon  it,  they  would  see  the  glory 
of  the  Lord,  they  would  behold  the  invisible,  and  in 
the  sight  of  that  invisible  they  would  rise  up  from 
the  midst  of  their  degradation  and  sin,  and  hear  the 
word  of  the  Lord,  saying,  "  Go,  and  sin  no  more ; 
neither  do  I  condemn  tliee  ;  go  in  peace." 

But  here  is  another  life,  a  life  very  different  from 
the  one  of  which  we  have  just  spoken,  a  life  that 
knows  nothing  of  the  horror  and  misery  and  appre- 
hension of  the  sinner,  a  life  that  is  strong  in  its  own 
self-complacency,  a  life  that  is  proud  of  its  own 
power  and  its  own  success.  And  yet  when  we  con- 
sider what  is  needed  to  be  done  in  this  world,  when 
we  consider  what  a  perfect  life  would  be,  can  we  fail 
to  feel  that  these  men,  who  are  so  satisfied  with  their 
own  success,  and  so  proud  of  their  own  power,  and 
so  in  love  with  their  own  cleverness,  have  seen  very 
little  of  the  glory  and  nobility  of  life  ? 


114  SEEING    THE  INVISIBLE. 

They  need  a  vision  of  the  invisible.  They  need  to 
see  that  in  a  perfect  life  eternal  love  walks  hand  in 
hand  with  almighty  power.  How  little  of  love  there 
is  in  most  of  these  men  that  I  have  in  mind  !  Self- 
absorbed,  self-complacent,  self-reliant,  self-made,  they 
have  little  pity  for  those  who  have  not  succeeded  in 
the  struggle  for  existence.  They  are  proud,  but  they 
are  not  tender.  All !  if  they  could  have  the  revela- 
tion of  the  invisible,  if  they  could  see  the  perfect  life 
that  was  revealed  in  Jesus,  a  life  of  mighty  power, 
a  life  of  tender  pity,  then  their  lives  might  be  en- 
nobled, and  sweetened,  and  made  more  gentle,  more 
human,  more  loving,  more  helpful  to  human  souls. 

Or  here  is  another  life,  —  a  life  that  is  dull.  It 
has  tasted  of  many  fountains,  and  they  taste  alike. 
It  has  tried  to  be  satisfied  with  the  things  that  the 
world  has  to  offer,  and  it  has  found  the  truth  of  the 
saying,  "  There  is  a  peace  that  the  world  cannot 
give."  It  has  become  a  dull,  an  uninterested,  a 
weary,  dreary  life.  Now  that  life  needs  a  new  in- 
terest, and  that  interest  cannot  come  from  the  rev- 
elation of  anything  that  is  seen,  because  all  that  is 
seen  has  been  tried.  There  is  one  more  hope,  and 
that  is  the  revelation  of  the  unseen,  the  revelation 
of  the  life  of  Jesus ;  —  a  life  that  never  failed  to  be 
interested,  a  life  that  went  on  day  by  day,  finding 
that  each  step  opened  up  a  new  vista  of  the  glory 
and  splendor  of  God,  a  new  vista  of  the  want  and 


SEEING    THE  INVISIBLE.  115 

possibility  of  human  souls.  How  can  any  soul  be 
dull  that  knows  what  there  is  to  be  done  !  How  can 
any  soul  be  uninterested  that  knows  that  the  almighty 
power  of  God  stands  ready  to  flow  down,  like  some 
great  river  that  has  been  blocked  by  the  mountains, — 
flow  down  over  the  parched  plain,  and  refresh  and 
invigorate  it ! 

That  is  the  possibility  of  every  soul  that  knows 
God,  to  let  in  the  stream  of  the  divine  life,  and  make 
the  barren  plain  a  rich  and  fertile  valley.  That  is 
what  will  beget  a  new  interest  in  life,  —  the  interest 
of  doing  good,  the  interest  of  watching  the  effect 
of  God's  spirit  on  other  souls,  —  ay,  and  on  our 
own.  The  consciousness  that  we  are  being  led  by 
God,  and  cared  for  by  God,  and  educated  by  him, 
will  keep  life  from  being  dull  and  uninteresting,  will 
fill  it  with  new  interest  every  day,  and  fill  it  with 
new  power  to  accomplish  the  work  the  desire  of 
which  that  new  interest  has  begotten. 

And,  lastly,  there  are  the  discouraged ;  those  who 
have  had  hope  and  lost  it ;  those  who  have  known 
what  it  was  to  serve  God,  and  have  grown  weary  of 
it ;  those  who  knew  what  it  was  to  feel  the  presence 
of  God,  and  now  feel  his  presence  no  more.  They 
have  grown  discouraged.  They  have  said,  like  the 
man  of  old,  "  Where  is  the  promise  of  his  coming  ?  " 
They  have  said,  like  the  men  that  walked  with  Jesus 
without  knowing  that  it  was  Jesus,  "  We  had  hoped 


116  SEEING   THE   INVISIBLE. 

tliat  it  was  he  that  would  have  redeemed  Israel." 
They  have  felt  the  bitterness  which  wrung  from  the 
Psalmist  his  cry,  that  so  many  have  repeated  in  the 
hundreds  of  years  that  have  rolled  past  since  it  was 
first  heard:  "Why  art  thou  so  full  of  heaviness,  0 
my  soul,  and  why  art  thou  so  disquieted  within  me  ? 
Put  thy  trust  in  God,  for  I  will  yet  thank  him 
which  is  the  help  of  my  countenance  and  my  God." 
Yet  they  find  it  hard  to  believe.  And  yet,  if  they 
could  see,  —  if  they  could  see  that  which  Moses  saw, 
the  invisible,  the  King  eternal,  immortal,  glorious, 
who,  before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or 
ever  the  earth  or  the  world  was  made,  was  God  from 
everlasting  to  everlasting,  world  without  end,  —  such 
a  vision,  my  friends,  of  the  eternity  of  God  would 
drive  away  the  clouds  of  discouragement  as  the  ris- 
ing of  the  sun  dispels  the  mists.  Think  what  it  was 
for  this  man,  who  disregarded  all  the  powers  of  the 
earth,  and  said  that,  having  seen  God  in  the  desert, 
he  would  go  forth  into  the  wilderness  again  to  see 
God.  Think  what  it  was  that  this  man  did.  He 
withstood  all  the  powers  of  the  world  that  then  were, 
in  the  simple  confidence  that  the  Eternal  was  greater 
than  all.  Think  how  his  faith  was  justified.  To-day 
the  monuments  of  Egypt  are  a  great  curiosity.  Its 
splendors  have  passed  away ;  its  triumphs  are  things 
that  we  read  of,  and  hardly  believe  that  they  once 
took    place.      The    great,   overwhelming    civilization 


SEEING    THE  INVISIBLE.  117 

built  upon  tlie  writhing  bodies  of  the  wretched  slaves 
has  crumbled  to  the  dust,  and  has  become  as  a  dream. 
We  look  to-day  in  our  museums  on  the  faces  of  the 
greatest  of  the  kings,  and  smile  to  think  how  true 
it  is  of  every  king,  that  at  last  he  shall  sit  down  in 
the  dust. 

But  think  what  it  must  have  been  for  a  man,  in  the 
day  when  these  things  that  have  passed  away  were 
living  and  awful  realities,  to  have  stood  up  in  their 
midst  and  said,  ''  I  see  him  who  is  invisible."  The 
sight  of  the  invisible  brought  to  that  man  a  sense  of 
the  true  proportion  of  things ;  and  he  that  has  a 
sense  of  the  true  proportion  of  things  can  never  grow 
morbid,  can  never  become  habitually  discouraged. 

O,  if  you  could  have,  my  discouraged  friend,  a 
vision  of  the  Eternal,  wlio  never  wearies,  who  never 
sleeps,  who  keepeth  Israel,  then  all  the  things  of  life 
would  take  their  right  proportion,  and  we  should  feel, 
instead  of  discouragement,  an  eagerness  to  undertake 
the  work  which  has  behind  it  almighty  power,  and  is 
guided  by  the  hand  of  Eternal  Love. 

And  now  do  you  ask  me  how  this  thing  is  to  be 
brought  about,  —  how  we  are  to  see  the  invisible } 
Then  I  say  to  you,  my  friends,  that  there  is  no  force 
at  work  to-day  in  nature  that  was  not  at  work  when 
chaos,  formless,  filled  space.  But  under  the  influence 
of  the  Eternal  Power  these  forces  have  become  man- 


118  SEEING    THE  INVISIBLE. 

ifested,  until  we  can  see,  in  the  glory  of  the  evening 
sky,  in  the  wonder  of  the  flaming  flower,  in  the 
majesty  of  the  OA'ertopping  mountain,  in  the  splen- 
dor of  the  spreading  oak,  in  the  glory  of  the  rolling 
sea,  —  we  can  see  the  manifestation  of  those  powers 
in  beauty,  so  that  they  become,  as  I  said  at  the  be- 
ginning, an  influence  upon  our  lives  which  was  impos- 
sible while  they  were  hidden,  wrapped  up,  secreted,  in 
the  womb  of  chaos.  They  have  come  out  and  have 
become  manifested  in  nature,  so  that  they  are  a 
power  upon  our  souls  to-day  as  we  behold  the  vision 
of  them. 

So  is  it  in  the  revelation  of  the  divine  life.  There 
is  no  more  of  the  divine  life  now  in  the  universe  than 
there  has  been  from  the  beginning.  But  it  has  been 
manifested.  It  has  appeared  in  many  a  holy  life,  in 
many  a  saintly  prayer,  in  many  a  noble  hymn  ;  until 
at  last  the  perfect  image  of  the  Eternal  walked  this 
earth  in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  who  said  to  the 
disciple  who  said,  "  Lord,  show  us  the  Father  and  it 
sufficeth  us,"  — "  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen 
the  Father."  That  is  the  image  of  the  invisible, — 
the  reflection  by  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  of  the  Eter- 
nal Reality  in  the  character  of  Jesus  Christ. 

And  they  who  would  see  that  must  look  upon  it. 
And  they  who  look  upon  it  will  feel  its  influence  and 
its  power. 

But  I  have  said  that  in  all  these  things,  my  friends, 


SEEING   THE  INVISIBLE,  119 

the  vision  is  of  an  internal  revelation.  And  so  I 
would  not  have  you  for  one  moment  suppose  that  it  is 
necessary  for  you  to  go  out  of  your  own  lives,  and  by 
the  power  of  your  own  activity  go  forth  to  meet  and 
to  see  Jesus  Christ.  For,  as  Paul  lias  said  in  the 
Epistle  to  the  Romans,  "  We  need  not  come  up  into 
heaven  nor  go  down  into  hell,  for  he  is  in  us,  in  our 
mouth  and  in  our  heart."  The  very  lineaments  of 
the  character  of  Jesus  Christ  are  traced  upon  the 
background  of  your  life.  And  if  you  would  look 
into  your  life  by  the  doorway  of  its  wants,  through 
the  window  of  its  aspirations,  then  you  would  see  the 
answer  of  Almighty  God  to  those  wants  and  those 
aspirations,  and  it  would  be  found  that  they  were  the 
faint  tracings  of  the  outline  of  the  character  of  Jesus 
Christ,  w^ho  is  the  image  of  the  Eternal  God. 

Look,  then,  into  your  souls,  and  ask  yourselves 
what  you  need ;  and  in  the  very  moment  that  you 
ask  yourself  w^hat  you  need  you  will  see  what  is 
needed,  and  that  sight  is  a  sight  of  the  invisible  sat- 
isfaction. Any  man  that  gives  himself  up  to  the 
power  of  the  vision  of  the  invisible  becomes  like  the 
invisible,  —  strong,  noble,  pure,  serene,  eternal.  Is 
not  that  the  truth  that  lies  back  of  the  dream  of 
which  we  read  so  much  in  the  Middle  Ages,  that  men 
should  have  the  beatific  vision  of  the  Eternal  Trinity  ? 
Somehow,  —  no  doubt  in  a  crude  and  materialistic 
form, — these  men  dreamed  of  beholding  some  out- 


120  SEEING   THE  INVISIBLE. 

ward  object  that  they  called  the  Father,  the  Son,  and 
the  Holy  Ghost.  But  because  its  form  was  crude, 
we  may  not  therefore  conclude  that  there  was  no 
reality  which  answered  to  this  hope.  We  believe  that 
there  is.  We  believe  that  the  day  shall  come  for 
every  earnest  soul  when  the  perfect  vision  of  that 
which  has  been  seen  in  part  shall  be  revealed  ;  wlien 
the  eye  of  the  soul  shall  behold  with  perfect  satis- 
faction the  face  of  the  Father ;  when  the  heart  sliall 
lean  on  the  heart  of  the  Eternal  Son,  as  John  leaned 
on  the  breast  of  Jesus  at  supper ;  when  the  mind  of 
man  shall  perfectly  commune  Avith  the  Spirit  of 
Truth,  and  in  that  threefold  communion,  under  the 
protection  of  the  Father,  in  the  love  of  the  Son, 
and  by  the  power  of  the  Spirit,  find  the  satisfaction 
after  which  the  soul  had  thirsted  from  the  day  it 
fitst  began  to  consider  the  meaning  of  the  mystery 
of  life. 

Strive,  in  your  day  of  temptation,  and  trial,  and 
burden,  and  sorrow,  to  see  him  wlio  is  invisible. 
Strive  to  see  the  image  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
Clirist.  Look  till  you  find  the  image  of  your  Father 
imprinted  on  the  background  of  your  soul ;  for  in 
the  day  you  see  the  Eternal,  you  yourself  will  feel  the 
])Ower  of  the  eternal  life.  And  the  end  to  which  we 
travel  is  the  answer  of  the  cry  of  the  religious  soul, 
"  My  soul  is  athirst  for  God,  yea,  even  for  the  living 


SEEING    THE  INVISIBLE.  121 

God.     When  shall  I  come  to  appear  before  the  pres- 
ence of  God  ? " 

In  the  day  when  you  and  I  are  ready  to  receive  the 
perfect  revelation  of  the  Eternal,  the  cry  for  satis- 
faction and  for  vision  will  be  answered  by  Almighty 
God. 


IX. 

GAMBLING. 

There  is  a  way  that  seemeth  right  unto  a  man^  hut  the 
end  thereof  are  the  ways  of  death.  —  Proverbs,  xvi.  2b. 

THE  prevailing  philosophy  of  the  day  is  utilita- 
rian. It  teaches  that  the  only  way  to  learn 
whether  an  act  is  good  or  bad  is  to  apply  the  test 
of  experience.  If,  in  the  long  run,  it  is  found  that 
a  certain,  act  results  in  the  greatest  good  of  the  great- 
est number,  then  that  act  may  be  ticketed  good.  If, 
on  the  contrary,  it  is  found  that  happiness  is  not  the 
result  of  a  certain  act,  then  it  may  be  stated  that 
that  act  is  wrongful.  It  is  not  my  purpose  to  dis- 
cuss the  principles  of  this  school,  nor  ask  if  that  is 
the  only  test  we  have  of  right  and  wrong.  I  wish 
rather  to  call  your  attention  to  the  truth  in  it,  which 
is,  that  in  the  long  run  right  produces  happiness 
and  evil  misery ;  and  then  to  ask  you  to  remember 
that  there  are  many  cases  in  which  it  is  not  easy 
to  decide  by  abstract  reasoning  whether  a  certain 
act  is  right  or  wrong,  and  that   in   those   cases  we 


GAMBLING.  123 

may  apply  with  advantage  the  utilitarian  principle  of 
ethics. 

It  is  sometimes  supposed  that  this  is  a  modern  dis- 
covery ;  but  it  is  not  so.  This  is  the  principle  under- 
lying the  Book  of  Proverbs.  In  the  sixteenth  chapter 
at  the  twenty-fifth  verse  this  is  stated  with  great 
clearness,  ''  There  is  a  way  that  seemeth  right  unto  a 
man,  but  the  end  thereof  are  the  ways  of  death." 

As  soon  as  we  begin  seriously  to  consider  the 
meaning  of  such  words  as  these,  we  are  met  with  a 
difficulty.  "  The  way  seems  to  a  man  right."  What 
more  then  can  a  man  do  than  follow  that  way  ?  Nay, 
must  we  not  go  farther,  and  say  that  each  man  ought 
to  do  what  seems  to  him  to  be  right  without  regard 
to  consequences  ?  Is  it  not  the  exercise  of  the  great 
principle  of  private  judgment,  which  no  man  has  a 
right  to  abandon  ?  It  is  this  form  of  private  judg- 
ment which  the  Romish  controversialist  delights  to 
fasten  upon.  It  is  this  confusion  which  leads  men 
and  women  to  say.  However  disadvantageous  divorce 
may  be  to  the  community,  in  my  case  it  seems  to  be 
right,  and  therefore  I  must  follow  that  way.  Now 
the  answer  to  this  sophistry  is  not  difficult  to  find. 
The  true  principle  of  private  judgment  is  not  "A 
man  is  bound  to  follow  the  way  that  seems  to  him 
to  be  right."  Such  a  rule  would  destroy  society,  and 
make  progress  impossible.  The  rule  is,  "-  No  man 
should  do  that  which  he  knows  to  be  wrong."     In 


124  GAMBLING. 

questions  of  morals  the  first  essential  is  prudence^ 
as  the  Proverbs  so  often  say.  It  is  far  better  that 
a  man  should  stand  still,  make  no  progress,  than 
that  he  should  retrograde.  Therefore,  that  a  way 
seems  to  me  right  is  no  warrant  for  me  to  walk  in 
it.  On  the  contrary,  I  am  bound  to  ask  myself  what 
the  experience  of  mankind  has  shown  in  regard  to 
this  way.  If  a  hundred  travellers  meet  a  man  on 
the  highway  and  tell  him  that  the  right  hand  turn- 
ing brings  him  to  a  bridge  which  it  is  not  safe  to 
cross,  and  he  persists,  because  the  bridge  seems  to 
him  strong,  and  is  drowned,  we  say  he  was  a  fool. 
And  that  is  the  word  which  the  Book  of  Proverbs  is 
very  fond  of  using  of  those  who  are  "  wise  in  their 
own  eyes,  and  prudent  in  their  own  conceit." 

But  I  think,  moreover,  that  in  many  of  these  so 
called  doubtful  cases  of  conscience  it  will  be  found 
that  selfishness  has  played  a  part.  The  way  seems 
to  a  man  to  be  right  because  he  wants  it  so  to  seem. 
Still  there  are  doubtful  cases.  There  are  certain 
acts  which,  treating  of  them  in  the  abstract,  we  can 
find  many  reasons  to  approve,  but  of  which  the  end 
is  the  way  of  death. 

A  notable  example  of  this  is  found  in  the  vice  of 
gambling.  It  is  a  perfect  example.  In  the  first 
place,  there  cannot  be  any  reason  assigned  for  its 
being  wrong  to  which  a  more  or  less  good  answer 


GAMBLING.  125 

cannot  be  found.  To  many  good  people  it  seems  to 
be  right.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  no  one  who 
denies  that  the  end  thereof  are  the  ways  of  death. 
That  it  is  a  vice  which  is  increasing,  no  thought- 
ful observer  of  contemporary  morals,  I  think,  will 
deny. 

What  is  gambling?  It  is  defined  as  playing  for 
money  or  other  stake.  The  extent  of  it,  however, 
cannot  be  limited  to  what  is  commonly  understood 
by  play,  for  it  is  rife  in  business.  The  difference 
between  work  and  play  seems  to  be  that  play  is  an 
end  in  itself,  while  work  is  that  which  produces  a 
value.  Any  business  so  called  which  does  not  have 
production  of  value  as  its  object  is  playing  for  a 
stake.  That  is,  it  hopes  to  gain  without  giving  an 
equivalent. 

Just  what  such  business  is,  it  is  not  easy  for  one 
not  engaged  in  business  to  say.  I  think  that  moral- 
ists have  done  harm  in  including  under  the  head  of 
gambling  forms  of  business  which  may  be  demoral- 
izing, but  which  are  not  gambling. 

Thus  it  is  frequently  said  that  dealing  in  "  futures  " 
is  gambling.  But  I  think  not.  If  a  man  order  ten 
tons  of  coal  in  June,  to  be  delivered  on  the  first  of 
August,  at  the  current  price  at  that  date,  he  is  deal- 
ing in  futures,  but  he  is  not  gambling,  because  it  is  a 
transaction  of  mutual  advantage.  The  buyer  takes 
a  risk  in  the  hopes  of  getting  his  coal  cheap,  and  the 


126  GAMBLING. 

dealer  takes  a  risk  in  order  that  his  teams  may  be 
employed  at  the  dull  season.  The  essence  of  gam- 
bling is  not  the  risk^  for  that  is  an  element  in  all 
business.  It  is  the  failure  to  render  an  equivalent 
for  value  received,  and  the  hope  that  no  such  equiva- 
lent will  be  necessary. 

In  the  same  way,  speculation  is  sometimes  loosely 
called  gambling.  But  that  is  not  true  of  all  specula- 
tion. A  man  buys  stock  at  seventy.  It  falls  to 
thirty.  If  he  sells,  he  is  not  a  gambler.  Nor  is  he 
if  the  figures  be  reversed.  There  was  a  transaction 
of  mutual  advantage.  One  preferred  ready  money  to 
further  risk,  and  the  other  preferred  to  use  unem- 
ployed money  in  the  hope  of  a  large  increase.  And 
yet,  while,  as  I  say,  neither  of  these  transactions 
can  be  called  gambling,  there  can  be  no  question  that 
they  have  tended  to  cultivate  the  gambling  spirit. 
It  shows  itself  in  the  messenger  boy  who  bets  on  the 
rise  and  fall  of  the  market,  in  the  bucket  shop,  and 
in  the  financier  who  bids  for  stock  for  which  he  can- 
not pay,  in  the  hope  that  an  upward  movement  will 
enable  him  to  sell  it  without  having  paid  for  it. 
That  this  spirit  is  increasing  in  business,  no  one  can 
doubt.  It  leads  to  fraud,  and  tempts  men  who  think 
themselves  honorable  to  circulate  false  reports  about 
stock,  that  it  may  fall,  or  to  use  equally  dishonorable 
means  to  raise  values.  In  a  purer  moral  atmos- 
phere, we  will  not  call  the  men  who  do  such  things 


GAMBLING.  127 

''  bulls  "  and  "  bears  " ;  they  will  be  more  aptly  called 
"  pigs  "  and  "  snakes." 

Now  the  end  of  these  things  are  the  ways  of  death. 
All  goes  well  until  a  man  can  stand  the  pressure  no 
longer ;  and  then,  in  order  to  divert  his  mind,  he 
abandons  his  wife  for  the  strange  woman,  whose  ways 
go  down  to  the  grave ;  or  he  takes  to  drink,  to  steady 
his  nerves  ;  or  throws  trust  money  on  the  table,  in 
the  hope  that  at  last  he  may  win ;  or,  when  all  is 
lost,  and  shame  is  about  to  fall  on  those  who  bear 
his  name,  blows  out  his  brains, —  dies  as  the  fool 
dieth,  though  he  be  called  a  wise  man  by  kindred 
spirits. 

But  the  gambling  in  business  is  not  the  only  mani- 
festation of  the  spirit.  If  it  were,  I  should  not  feel 
called  upon  to  speak  of  it  in  a  mixed  congregation. 
In  some  cases,  the  contact  with  evil  men  in  the  busi- 
ness community  may  corrupt  a  youth,  but  I  venture 
to  think  that  in  the  large  majority  of  cases  they  are 
corrupt  before  they  begin  their  business  career.  It 
has  been  said  that  the  cost  of  athletics  in  one  of  the 
colleges  in  this  country  is  over  twenty-five  tliousand 
dollars  a  year.  But  that  takes  no  account  of  the 
sums  of  money  which  pass  from  hand  to  hand  at 
every  football  match  or  base-ball  game.  If  a  man 
goes  to  a  horse  race,  he  expects  to  see  professional 
gamblers  flaunting  their  handful  of  bills,  and  crying 


128  GAMBLING. 

for  bets ;  but  it  is  a  thing  to  consider,  when  the  men 
who  are  called  to  be  the  true  aristocracy  of  this 
land  are  found  aping  the  look  and  manner  of  the 
blackleg,  and  turning  that  which  is  sanctioned  by  the 
authorities  because  it  may  be  a  healthful  pastime  into 
a  degrading  sport,  —  no  longer  an  end  in  itself,  no 
longer  played  for  the  glory  of  the  college,  but  de- 
lighted in  because  it  gives  an  opportunity  for  a  vicious 
excitement.  Nor  is  that  all.  The  way  of  it  is  the 
way  of  death.  It  is  tending  more  and  more  to  be- 
come a  game  played  not  by  undergraduates.  Men,  it 
is  believed,  enroll  themselves  on  college  books  simply 
to  play.  The  newspapers  are  full  of  charges  and 
countercharges  of  things  unworthy  of  gentlemen. 
Now  when  these  things  are  considered  dispassionately, 
men  are  ashamed  of  them.  They  take  place  because 
men's  passions  have  become  inflamed  as  a  result  of 
the  stakes  which  are  on  a  game.  No  wonder,  after 
several  years  of  such  excitement,  the  monotony  of 
legitimate  business  seems  unbearable,  and  gambling 
is  resorted  to  as  a  stimulant. 

With  this  many  people  will  agree,  and  say,  "  Yes, 
the  dangers  of  college  life  are  so  great  that  I  will  not 
send  my  boy  there,  for  fear  he  be  corrupted."  But 
what  will  you  do  with  him  ?  Will  you  send  him  to 
school  ?  If  so,  you  will  soon  find  that  gambling  is 
as  constantly  practised  among  schoolboys  as  amongst 
collegians.     I  think  we  should  stand  appalled  if  we 


GAMBLING.  129 

knew  the  extent  to  which  the  boys  of  this  commu- 
nity indulge  in  betting.  Many  a  boy  who  cannot 
pass  his  preliminaries  can  hold  his  own  in  gambling, 
because  he  has  had  long  practice  at  school.  That  it 
leads  to  debt,  to  falsehood  on  the  part  of  boys  who 
must  obtain  money  from  their  parents,  —  yes,  even 
to  drink  and  drunkenness,  —  is  a  fact  known  to  some 
of  you,  if  not  to  all.  It  is  not  the  college  which  cor- 
rupts the  boy  :  it  is  the  boy  who  corrupts  the  college. 
When  these  things  come  to  light,  the  parents  say, 
"  What  shall  we  do  ? "  Perhaps  they  try  a  private 
school,  where  only  "good  boys"  are  admitted.  But 
it  does  not  follow  that  a  boy  is  bad  because  he  bets. 
Boys  are  imitative ;  they  do  what  they  see  others  do. 
They  want  to  be  manly ;  they  want  to  do  the  same 
things  their  uncles  and  fathers  do.  And  if  the  best 
boy  in  the  community  is  sent  to  the  most  exclusive 
school  in  the  city,  it  will  be  found  that  he  has  fallen 
into  this  evil  way  if  those  whom  he  looks  up  to 
walk  in  it. 

So,  then,  we  must  turn  from  the  appalling  spectacle 
of  gambling  in  business,  the  disgusting  degradation 
of  sport  in  college,  the  corrupting  practice  of  betting 
in  schools,  and  look  in  upon  the  family,  and  ask  what 
has  the  home  influence  done  to  guard  against  this 
growing  evil.  My  friends,  I  think  you  will  say  at 
once,  too  little.  Perhaps  some  of  you  will  go  farther, 
and  sav  the  children  have  been   made  familiar  with 


130  GAMBLING. 

gambling  while  in  the  nursery.  If  a  little  boy  ad- 
mires a  charm  that  his  father  wears  and  learns  that 
he  won  it  from  a  friend  on  a  bet,  if  a  little  girl  asks 
with  delight  where  the  new  ornament  came  from  and 
learns  that  her  mother  won  it  at  cards,  the  bloom 
has  been  taken  off  their  sense  of  honor  ;  and  we  need 
not  utter  our  philippics  against  State  Street,  nor 
indulge  in  tirades  against  the  college,  nor  despair 
of  the  school,  for  we  have  tracked  the  evil  home, 
and  found  that  it  is  an  honored  guest  where  we 
should  look  to  find  only  that  which  is  lovely  and 
honest,  and  of  good  report. 

And  now  some  of  you  will  think  it  is  time  that 
there  should  be  a  rejoinder ;  and  that  I  will  try  and 
put  as  fairly  as  possible. 

In  the  first  place,  it  will  be  said,  gambling  is 
the  harmful  excess  of  a  thing  in  itself  harmless.  It 
is  like  drunkenness,  —  a  vice  which  all  good  people 
condemn,  and  which  fanatics  would  prevent  by  the 
prohibition  of  even  a  single  glass  of  wine.  In  dis- 
cussing an  evil  it  is  necessary  to  distinguish  between 
the  use  and  abuse  of  a  practice.  The  loss  or  gain 
of  large  sums  of  money  on  a  horse  race  is  a  bad 
thing ;  the  winning  of  ten-cent  points  at  whist  has 
no  evil  in  it.  Now,  it  is  right  to  admit  that  this 
position  has  the  approval  of  many  distinguished  mor- 
alists, and  is  not  to  be  lightly  set  aside.     If  it  be  true, 


GAMBLING.  131 

then  the  denunciation  of  petty  playing  for  stakes  is 
as  likely  to  produce  a  reaction  as  the  denunciation  of 
the  temperate  use  of  alcohol.  But  suppose  for  a  mo- 
ment that  it  be  true,  —  suppose  it  seemeth  to  a  man 
to  be  right,  —  is  it  not  admitted  that  the  end  thereof 
are  the  ways  of  death  ?  And  if  so,  are  we  not  called 
upon  to  deny  ourselves  an  indulgence  which,  though 
harmless  in  itself,  is  productive  of  great  evil  ?  It 
may  be  answered,  No.  I  am  not  called  upon  to 
eschew  the  use  of  wine  in  the  privacy  of  my  own 
home  because  a  man  is  making  a  beast  of  himself 
around  the  corner ;  no  more  am  I  called  upon  to  give 
up  my  whist  party,  where  we  play  for  small  stakes, 
because  some  man  at  the  club  is  wasting  his  sub- 
stance at  poker. 

But  the  answer,  I  think,  lies  here.  You  may  use 
your  wine  not  simply  because  it  pleases  your  pal- 
ate,—  that  would  be  the  extreme  of  selfishness;  you 
may  use  it  because  it  is  good  for  you  in  small 
quantities ;  but  did  any  one  ever  hold  that  playing 
for  small  stakes  was  a  good  ?  No,  the  most  that 
was  ever  said  by  its  advocates  is  that  it  is  harm- 
less in  small  quantities.  And,  again,  you  may  use 
your  wine  believing  that  you  are  setting  a  good 
example,  —  believing  that  intemperance  can  best  be 
met,  not  by  prohibition,  but  by  the  temperate  use  of 
light  beverages.  But  did  any  one  ever  believe  that 
playing   for    small  stakes    prevented  a  man  or   boy 


132  GAMBLING. 

from  playing  for  larger  ones  ?  No,  my  friends  ;  the 
analogy  will  not  bear  examination.  Admit,  if  you 
will,  that  playing  for  small  stakes  is  not  wrong,  the 
question  for  you  to  ask  is  this  :  Considering  the  spirit 
of  gambling  in  business,  considering  the  degradation 
of  sport  in  college,  considering  the  demoralization 
of  boys  in  school,  am  I  not  called  upon  to  deny 
myself  that  which  I  do  not  consider  wrong  for  fear 
of  having  an  evil  influence  in  the  community  ? 

That  is  my  reply  to  the  first  objection.  The  sec- 
ond objection  is  this.  Gambling  is  defined  as  the 
receipt  of  money  without  the  exchange  of  an  equiva- 
lent. But  what  is  meant  by  an  equivalent  ?  Cer- 
tainly not  an  equivalent  sum  of  money  or  tangible 
goods.  When  I  go  to  the  theatre  I  pay  a  certain 
sum  of  money  to  see  a  play  ;  the  equivalent  is  the 
pleasure  I  receive.  Very  well,  if  I  play  a  game 
with  my  friend  for  a  certain  sum  of  money  and  I 
lose,  the  equivalent  is  found  in  the  excitement  which 
I  had  in  trying  not  to  lose.  The  answer  is,  that  in 
the  first  case  you  paid  for  a  commodity  which  was 
the  result  of  work  on  the  part  of  the  actor,  and  was 
therefore  a  legitimate  business  transaction ;  whereas 
in  the  second  case  you  took  from  your  friend  some- 
thing which  he  did  not  mind  losing,  perhaps,  but 
still  you  took  it  from  him  because  you  outwitted  him. 
We  have  become  so  familiar  with  this  method  of  out- 
witting one  another  that  we  have  become  callous  to 


GAMBLING.  133 

the  essential  of  it.  But  suppose  we  tried  a  new 
method  of  arriving  at  the  same  result,  I  think  we 
should  see  what  I  wish  to  point  out.  Suppose  instead 
of  playing  whist,  two  gentlemen  were  to  stand  up  in 
a  drawing-room  and  agree  to  try  to  rob  one  another 
for  ten  minutes,  each  to  keep  what  he  seized  ;  or 
suppose  we  met  a  friend  coming  out  of  the  club,  and 
asked  him  where  he  got  his  scarf-pin,  and  he  replied, 
'•  I  won  it  from  a  man  in  a  pickpocket  match."  We 
should  have  no  difficulty  then  in  seeing  that  the  ob- 
taining of  another  man's  goods,  whether  in  large  or 
small  quantities,  as  the  result  of  outwitting  him,  is  a 
degrading  practice,  which  must  tend  to  blunt  the 
sense  of  honor  and  destroy  self-respect.  And  while 
that  is  more  apparent  in  the  case  where  large  sums 
are  at  stake,  yet  the  principle  is  the  same  in  the 
smallest  sum.  And  it  is  that  consideration  which 
leads  me  to  feel  that  not  only  is  gambling  an  evil 
because  of  its  effects,  but  that  it  is  an  evil  in  itself, 
because  it  makes  it  possible  for  a  man  to  receive 
from  a  friend  that  which  the  friend  must  give  him 
because  he  has  been  outwitted.  To  the  loser  it  is  a 
humiliation,  and  to  the  gainer  it  is  a  degradation. 

And  so,  my  friends,  whether  you  agree  with  me  or 
not  in  regard  to  the  attempt  which  I  have  made  to 
point  out  the  essential  evil  of  gambling,  yet  I  beg 
you  to  consider  the  end.     It  is  the  way  of  death,  — 


134  GAMBLING. 

death  of  peace  in  the  home,  truth  in  school,  decency 
in  college,  and  honor  in  business.  Ought  it  not, 
then,  to  be  banished  from  the  family  ? 

We  are  in  the  season  of  Lent,  —  the  season  in 
which  our  Church  calls  on  us  to  consider  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  Son  of  God,  calls  on  us  to  ask  ourselves 
what  is  to  be  the  end  of  our  life.  I  have  tried  to 
point  out  to  you  the  end  of  one  practice  which  is 
growing  frequent ;  but  I  would  not  leave  it  until  you 
turn  from  all  questions  of  expediency  and  ask  your- 
selves. How  does  it  appear  when  we  consider  Jesus 
Christ  the  end  of  our  conversation,  —  the  end  to 
which  a  rigliteous  character  tends  ?  There  can  be  but 
one  answer.  He  found  time,  even  in  the  awful  stress 
of  the  great  pressure  of  his  short  life,  to  turn  aside 
and  refresh  himself  by  entering  into  the  simple  joys 
of  the  Galilean  village ;  he  did  not  disdain  the  great 
feast  which  an  admirer  prepared  for  him.  His  gen- 
tle irony  showed  how  the  sweet  laughter  might  have 
been  heard  from  those  divine  lips  had  the  world  to 
whom  lie  came  received  him.  So  that  his  life  gives 
no  countenance  to  ascetic  gloom.  But  if  we  ask  our- 
selves whether  he  with  his  perfect  faith  in  God  his 
Father  would  have  entered  into  any  pastime  which, 
by  its  prostitution  of  the  noble  spirit  of  adventure, 
would  have  produced  the  feverish  anxiety  which  de- 
stroys faith  in  God,  —  whether  he  who  was  the  em- 
bodiment of  sublime  self-respect  would  have  amused 


GAMBLING.  135 

himself  by  tarnishing  it,  —  whether  he  who  loved  the 
souls  of  men  so  as  to  lay  down  his  life  for  them 
would  have  given  occasion  to  a  little  child  to  stumble, 
we  have  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  answer.  If,  then, 
he  whose  passions  were  held  in  perfect  control,  whose 
love  burned  strong,  and  whose  self-respect  knew  no 
moments  of  remorse,  — if  he  could  not  have  done 
such  things  without  loss,  what  must  be  the  result  for 
you  and  me  ?  We  call  ourselves  his  followers,  but 
we  have  moments  when  we  seem  contemptible  to 
ourselves,  unworthy  of  God's  salvation.  Our  pas- 
sions are  ready  to  spring  upon  us  when  we  least 
expect  it,  and  overpower  us  ;  our  love  of  our  fellow 
men  is  often  discolored  by  hatred.  We  then  can- 
not afford  to  do  anything  that  will  lessen  self-respect, 
or  inflame  passion,  or  weaken  brotherly  love.  "There 
is  a  way  that  seemeth  unto  a  man  right,  but  the  end 
thereof  are  the  ways  of  death." 


THE   NEWSPAPER. 

When  thou  huilclest  a  neiv  house,  then  thou  shalt  make 
a  battlement  for  thy  roof,  that  thou  bring  not  blood  upon 
thy  house ,  if  any  mart  fall  from  thence.  —  Deuteronomy, 
xxii.  8. 

THE  spirit  which  breathes  through  the  Book  of 
Deuteronomy  is  very  different  from  that  which 
animates  our  modern  civilization.  The  latter  says, 
Let  each  man  look  out  for  himself.  There  are,  in- 
deed, laws  for  the  safeguard  of  the  public,  but  they 
proceed  upon  the  supposition  that  each  man  is  bound 
to  guard  against  accident ;  and  the  liability  of  the 
employer  is  carefully  limited  to  accidents  which  are 
met  with  in  the  line  of  the  duty  for  which  an  indi- 
vidual has  been  engaged,  so  that  if  an  employee,  in 
order  to  oblige  another,  steps  aside  from  his  post, 
and  is  caught  in  the  revolving  wheel  and  crushed, 
the  company  is  not  accountable.  It  is  not  my  pur- 
pose to  discuss  this  matter.  I  merely  wish  to  call 
your  attention  to  it,  that,  in  the  contrast  with  the 
spirit  of  the  Hebrew  law,  the  difference  may  be 
clearly  seen.     For  in  that  it  was  enacted,  that  if  a 


THE   NEWSPAPER.  137 

man  came  to  visit  a  neighbor,  and,  being  led  to  what 
answered  to  the  drawing-room  of  a  modern  house,  — 
the  flat  roof,  screened  with  plants,  and  strewn  with 
rugs,  —  fell  from  thence  and  was  killed,  the  host  was 
guilty  of  his  blood,  because  he  had  not  built  high 
enough  the  battlement  of  his  house.  It  was  not 
enough  that  a  man  should  guard  himself  against  acci- 
dent, it  was  not  enough  that  a  man  should  tell  his 
children  not  to  go  too  near  the  edge,  nor  even  to 
warn  his  friend.  If  his  battlement  was  not  high 
enough  to  prevent  such  an  accident,  he  was  guilty 
of  his  neighbor's  blood. 

It  was  believed  by  the  Jqw  that  this  law  was  the 
expression  of  the  will  of  Jehovah.  As  we  read  it, 
we  feel  that  it  is  the  expression  of  a  truth  too  often 
forgotten  in  legislation.  A  paternal  government 
would  take  all  responsibility  from  the  individual  by 
protecting  each  man  as  a  child ;  the  anarchist  would 
leave  such  license  to  the  individual  that  no  man 
should  have  cause  to  consider  his  neighbor.  The 
Hebrew  did  neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  His  law 
said.  If  your  brother  come  to  harm  through  your 
carelessness,  you  are  a  guilty  man.  It  appealed  to  the 
conscience  of  the  individual  so  to  construct  his  house 
that  no  man  might  be  the  worse  for  his  having  lived. 

Our  subject,  then,  is  man's  responsibility  for  his 
neighbor.     The   subject   is   an   immense   one,  for  it 


138  THE  NEWSPAPER. 

touches  every  point  of  contact  between  man  and  man. 
It  would  be  well,  then,  if  the  housekeeper  were  to  ask 
wliat  is  the  result  of  her  example  upon  the  servants 
who  live  in  her  house ;  for  the  host  to  ask  what  is  his 
point  of  contact  with  his  brother  man,  and  whether  the 
duties  thereof  are  fulfilled.  Does  the  merchant  mis- 
represent his  goods  ?  Or  does  he  allow  a  misrepresen- 
tation to  go  uncorrected  ?  Does  the  shopkeeper  sell  as 
pure  what  will  poison  little  children,  and  put  a  part 
of  the  profit  in  the  collection  to  convert  the  heathen  ? 
Does  the  law^yer  seek  to  make  peace,  or  does  he  keep 
silent,  lest  a  compromise  should  reduce  the  fee  ? 
Does  the  doctor  ask  for  a  consultation  wlien  he  is  in 
doubt?  or  does  he  administer  drugs,  hoping  that 
nature  will  save  his  reputation  ?  Is  there  any  man 
here  whose  business  is  harmful  to  his  brother  man  ? 
Do  you  say  that  such  questions  are  an  insult  to  you  ? 
They  are  not  so  meant.  If  such  things  are,  it  is  in 
the  large  majority  of  cases  because  men  have  grown 
up  under  the  false  notion  that  each  man  must  look 
out  for  himself,  and  that  we  have  no  responsibility 
for  the  health,  the  comfort,  the  property,  or  the 
morals  of  our  neighbors.  Indeed  we  have.  And  if 
each  one  of  us  were  to  look  into  his  life,  I  doubt  not 
we  should  find  that  we  had  not  obeyed  the  injunc- 
tion of  the  old  law  to  build  a  battlement  for  the 
roof,  and  that  we  are  guilty  of  some  injury  to  our 
brother. 


THE  NEWSPAPER.  139 

If  each  of  us  were  to  do  that,  what  sermons  would 
be  preached  this  day !  Each  man  at  once  preacher 
and  hearer  !  But  if  you  will  not  preach  to  yourselves 
you  must  be  without  a  sermon.  I  cannot  take  up 
these  matters  in  detail  and  deal  with  them.  I  can- 
not speak  of  the  lawyer's  sins  while  the  merchant 
thanks  God  that  he  is  not  as  that  man.  I  would 
rather  speak  of  some  special  manifestation  of  the  evil 
which  is  not  personal,  or  rather  is  so  personal  that 
it  applies  to  every  one  of  us.  What  shall  it  be  ? 
What  one  great  enterprise  of  modern  life  touches  you 
and  me  ?  You  anticipate  me  in  the  answer.  It  is 
the  Newspaper. 

There  is  no  agency  that  can  for  a  moment  be 
compared  with  it.  It  is  as  permeating  as  the  atmos- 
phere. Its  influence  is  stronger  than  the  law.  It 
has  the  power  of  the  Popes  in  the  Middle  Ages.  It 
binds  men's  sins  upon  them,  and  they  are  bound. 
It  looses  the  notorious  renegade,  and  he  is  received 
again  into  society.  It  is  a  necessity ;  men  chafe  if 
it  be  ten  minutes  late  in  the  morning;  they  must 
have  it  on  Sunday.  Great  numbers  of  people  take 
one  in  the  morning  and  another  in  the  evening.  It 
is  hardly  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  it  is  the  only 
form  of  literature  that  multitudes  in  this  land  ever 
read.  As  the  taste  and  character  of  our  fathers  was 
built  upon  the  Bible,  so  is  the  taste  and  character 


140  THE   NEWSPAPER. 

of  the  great  mass  of  the  sixty  millions  of  the  people 
of  this  republic  fashioned  by  the  daily  paper.  Our 
first  feeling  ought  to  be  one  of  gratitude.  That  there 
can  be  any  means  of  reacliing  our  fellow  men  and 
speaking  to  them  every  day ;  cheering  them  with 
good  news  ;  telling  them,  with  awful  solemnity,  of 
the  sins  and  sorrows  of  our  brethren ;  pointing  with 
strong  faith  to  the  future,  so  full  of  unexpected  pos- 
sibilities, in  which  every  man  shall  have  an  opportu- 
nity to  develop  his  personality,  —  why,  it  is  almost  too 
good  to  be  true !  What  would  not  Paul  have  done, 
had  it  been  possible  in  his  day  to  speak  to  great 
multitudes  of  the  meaning  of  the  Divine  life  ?  What 
would  not  John  have  done,  who  laid  down  his  tired 
pen  after  he  had  written  his  little  Book,  saying, 
*'  Many  other  things  Jesus  did  which  are  not  written, 
for  even  the  world  itself  could  not  contain  the  things 
which  could  be  written  "  ! 

It  cannot  fail,  then,  to  be  a  subject  of  momentous 
importance  to  every  one  of  us.  A  thing  which  is  a 
necessity,  which  speaks  to  great  multitudes  every 
day,  which  is  never  weary,  but  can  multiply  its  copies 
a  million  times,  nmst  surely  be  the  greatest  influence 
for  good  or  evil  in  our  day. 

I  have  said  that  it  has  taken  the  place  of  the  Bible 
in  the  family  life.  It  is  therefore  not  unfair  to  com- 
pare it  with  the  Bible.  The  Bible,  we  have  come  to 
learn,   is   not   one    book,   but   the    literature   of   the 


THE   NEWSPAPER.  141 

Hebrew  people  bound  together  for  convenience.  It 
is  a  picture  of  Hebrew  life  for  more  than  a  thousand 
years.  Now,  that  is  exactly  what  the  newspaper  de- 
clares itself  to  be,  —  a  picture  of  life.  It  says  :  "  If 
you  do  not  like  the  picture,  change  the  original.  We 
have  nothing  to  do  with  that.  What  we  undertake  to 
do  is  to  hold  up  a  mirror  to  the  world  once  a  day,  that 
every  man  may  see  what  life  is.  We  do  it  as  a  busi- 
ness enterprise,  and  are  no  more  responsible  for  the 
face  that  you  see  than  the  photographer  for  the  figure 
on  the  negative." 

The  first  question,  then,  which  we  have  to  ask,  is 
this :  Is  the  daily  paper  a  portrait  of  life  ?  Is  it  a 
composite  photograph,  so  to  speak,  that  you  have 
seen  this  morning  of  the  American  life  of  the  last 
week  ?  I  answer  with  indignation,  It  is  not.  It  is 
a  photograph  fit  for  the  rogues'  gallery.  It  is  a 
picture  made  up  from  the  faces  of  one  saint  and 
many  murderers,  adulterers,  false  swearers,  whore- 
mongers, thieves,  and  reprobates.  It  is  an  outrage 
to  say  that  this  is  a  picture  of  life.  It  is  no  more  a 
picture  of  life  than  the  Charles  Street  jail  is  a  picture 
of  Boston  society,  —  no  more  a  picture  of  modern  civ- 
ilization than  the  garbage  and  dead  wood  floating  in 
the  harbor  is  a  picture  of  the  glorious  port  that  threw 
open  its  gates  with  this  morning's  sun  to  greet  the 
native  and  welcome  the  immigrant. 

It  is  a  pa?'t  of  life,  —  a  dreadful  part.     Perhaps  it 


142  THE   NEWSPAPER. 

should  be  told,  as  some  of  the  awful  stories  of  shame 
and  lust  are  told  in  the  Bible.  But  how  shall  it  be 
told  ?  We  read  that  there  came  to  Jesus  men  who 
called  themselves  religious,  leading  a  sinful  woman, 
and  began  to  give  him  the  details  of  the  poor  crea- 
ture's sin  ;  but  Jesus  stooped  down,  and  wrote  on 
the  ground  as  though  he  heard  them  not.  They 
might  with  unblushing  cheek  point  to  a  sister's 
shame ;  but  he  bowed  himself  down,  feeling  the 
shame  that  neither  the  brazen  men  nor  the  fright- 
ened woman  felt.  Is  that  the  way  the  newspaper 
tells  of  shame  ?  It  is  not.  It  is  blazoned  on  the 
page.  A  story  that,  if  it  were  told  in  its  naked  truth, 
would  be  too  sickening  for  any  but  a  hardened  sin- 
ner to  read,  is  dressed  in  a  certain  tawdry  finery  and 
made  of  interest,  so  that  the  young  read  it  and  suck 
in  the  poison  which  some  day  will  break  out  in  scab 
and  blotch,  like  the  leprosy  of  old. 

Yet  the  boast  of  the  newspapers  has  been  that 
they  painted  life  as  it  is.  If  they  have  not  done  this, 
then  they  have  slandered  their  countrymen.  And 
that  is  what  I  deliberately  charge  a  large  part  of  the 
press  of  this  country  with  doing.  They  gather  up 
the  exciting  and  sensational  events,  and  color  them 
still  more  intensely,  and  declare  that  they  are  giving 
us  and  our  children  a  picture  of  American  life,  after 
eighteen  hundred  years  of  the  influence  of  Jesus.  It 
is  an  outrage.     And  what  must  be  the  result  ?     Why, 


THE   NEWSPAPER.  143 

it  is  inevitable  that  those  who  accept  this  picture  as 
true  must  come  to  feel  that  vice  is  the  rule  and  vir- 
tue the  exception.  Yet  if  that  were  so,  society  could 
not  hold  together.  If  this  country  is  truly  repre- 
sented by  the  daily  paper,  it  is  a  nest  of  iniquity  into 
which  one  or  two  saints  have  wandered  by  mistake 
and  got  lost.  What  appeal,  then,  can  you  make  to 
your  boy  to  be  industrious  and  honest.  God-fearing 
and  reverent,  if  these  virtues  are  the  rare  exception  ? 
There  is  nothing  a  boy  so  dreads  as  being  thought 
odd.  The  boys  who  were  brought  up  on  the  Bible 
learned  that  vice  was  the  awful  violation  of  the  social 
order.  The  boy  who  is  brought  up  on  the  newspaper 
will  learn  that  vice  is  the  rule,  and  so  have  his  moral 
judgment  utterly  perverted.  Every  speech  he  listens 
to  in  which  the  greatness  of  his  country  is  spoken 
of  will  deepen  his  deadly  heresy  that  sin  is  no  dis- 
grace to  a  people,  and  that  smartness,  not  righteous- 
ness, exalteth  a  nation. 

That  this  is  a  true  statement  of  the  case  many  of 
you  believe.  There  may  be  some,  however,  who  will 
say  :  You  are  falling  into  the  error  you  have  con- 
demned. You  are  drawing  a  dark  picture,  and  im- 
plying that  all  newspapers  are  guilty,  whereas  it  is 
only  true  of  some.  That  I  am  willing  to  grant. 
But  I  say,  let  any  man  go  to  a  new  city,  and  buy  the 
first  newspaper  offered  him,  and  see  whether  or  not 
the  news  columns  are  not  largely  given  up  to  records 


144  THE  NEWSPAPER. 

of  crime  or  filthy  scandal.  Take  a  composite  photo- 
graph of  the  great  daily  newspapers  of  this  country, 
and  see  if  you  do  not  get  a  face  at  once  disgusting 
and  saddening. 

Again,  it  may  be  said,  Even  to  such  papers  you 
do  not  give  the  credit  they  deserve.  They  are  a 
powerful  aid  to  the  police  ;  from  their  Argus-eyed 
staff  no  criminal  can  escape.  Supposing  it  were 
true,  it  is  no  excuse  ;  in  a  well  regulated  munici- 
pality the  sewers  and  cesspools  are  cleaned  at 
night. 

Once  more,  You  forget  that  by  showing  the  in- 
evitable result  of  crime  they  have  a  moral  influence 
in  the  community. 

There  never  was  a  greater  fallacy.  The  State  of 
New  York  has  been  compelled  to  pass  a  law  forbid- 
ding the  description  by  the  newspapers  of  the  execu- 
tion of  criminals.  It  has  been  found  too  demoralizing. 
That  that  law  can  be  enforced  no  one  believes,  be- 
cause the  lawmakers  will  break  it  in  order  to  satisfy 
their  curiosity.  It  used  to  be  said  that  the  public 
execution  of  a  criminal  deterred  others  from  a  like 
offence.  No  one  believes  that  now.  The  silent  and 
swift  cleaving  of  the  sword  of  justice  is  the  only  thing 
that  will  strike  terror  into  the  mind  of  the  evil-doer. 
The  kind-hearted  people  who  distribute  the  news- 
papers in  the  jails  are  actuated  by  most  worthy 
motives,  but   in  my  judgment  they  do   a  vast   deal 


THE  NEWSPAPER.  145 

of  harm.  I  have  had  too  many  inmates  of  a  cell 
show  me  with  ill  concealed  pride  the  account  of  their 
trial,  the  appearance  which  they  presented,  and  the 
sympathy  of  the  spectators,  not  to  have  learned  that 
what  the  criminal  wants  is  not  to  know  the  news,  but 
only  to  see  his  name  in  print  and  to  feel  that  he  has 
at  last  accomplished  the  object  of  his  life,  which  was 
to  raise  himself  out  of  the  obscurity  in  which  he  had 
lived.  To  find  himself  one  of  a  class  to  whom  the 
whole  community  is  giving  attention  is  the  ambition 
of  many  a  youth  wiio  is  not  naturally  vicious  nor 
depraved.  That  is  my  judgment ;  and  I  believe  it 
will  be  approved  by  most  of  those  who  have  had 
dealings  with  the  criminal  classes.  Therefore  the 
newspaper  offsets  any  benefit  it  may  be  to  the  com- 
munity by  the  reward  it  presents  to  the  criminal. 

I  do  not  speak  of  the  way  in  which  homes  are  in- 
vaded, of  the  paid  guest  whom  the  society  papers 
send  to  lunches  and  receptions,  to  the  gossip  bought 
from  servants  or  the  w^eb  of  scandal  spun  from  a 
hasty  word,  for  that  would  lead  us  to  the  consider- 
ation of  the  so  called  society  journal,  and  there  are 
depths  into  which  a  decent  congregation  ought  not 
to  be  asked  to  descend.  There  is  a  certain  brutal 
frankness  in  the  way  in  which  the  morning  paper 
deals  with  the  shame  of  life.  But  the  society  paper 
slinks  in  after  dark  and  covers  its  shame  with  dia- 
monds  and   plush,   and   tells    silly    people   that   the 

10 


146  THE  NEWSPAPER. 

society  which  they  long  to  enter  is  after  all  a  very 
wicked  thing,  though,  it  must  be  admitted,  very  de- 
lightful. The  Turk  respects  the  modest  woman  who 
goes  veiled  through  the  streets,  but  in  this  enlight- 
ened land  ruffians  are  allowed  to  enter  the  drawing- 
room  and  tear  the  veil  from  the  face  of  the  bride,  or 
show  to  a  gaping  world  the  calm  face  of  the  dead. 

Now  who  is  responsible  for  this  state  of  affairs  ? 
The  proprietors,  stockholders,  editors,  and  reporters 
say  they  are  not.  They  declare  that  they  take  no 
pleasure  in  such  things,  —  that  it  is  what  the  public 
demands,  —  and  that  they  are  no  more  responsible 
for  the  taste  of  the  public  than  a  hotel  keeper,  who 
takes  a  mutton  chop  and  a  boiled  potato  for  his  din- 
ner, is  responsible  for  the  disgusting  waste  of  food 
which  is  spread  on  the  table  every  evening  for  his 
guests.  The  public  demands  it,  and  he  who  caters 
for  the  public  must  not  serve  to  suit  himself,  but 
the  public. 

It  might  as  well  be  said  at  once,  that  there  is  no 
argument  w^hich  would  influence  a  man  who  seriously 
believed  in  this  illustration.  Yet  one  cannot  but 
foresee  how  flaming  would  be  the  denouncement  of 
the  hotel  which  should  take  the  fatal  step  from  bad 
taste  to  slow  poison.  Let  the  Hotel  Yendome  find  a 
receipt  of  arsenic  or  strychnine  which  will  make  the 
food  more  palatable  even  than  it  is  now;  let  it  in- 


THE  NEWSPAPER.  147 

crease  its  patronage  by  such  means ;  let  some  doctor 
show  that  strong  men  and  fair  women  and  little  chil- 
dren are  being  slowly  poisoned,  —  not  so  fatally  that 
they  cannot  eat,  but  only  so  that  they  can  no  longer 
be  of  the  value  to  the  community  that  they  once  were, 
—  and  I  think  the  able  editor  might  be  left  to  point 
out  the  immorality  of  giving  to  people  that  which  is 
destructive,  simply  because  they  ask  for  it.  I  think 
we  should  hear  something  about  duty  to  the  public, 
and  the  shameful  love  of  money,  and  many  other 
beautiful  moral  sentiments,  perhaps  joined  with  a 
suggestion  that  the  Back  Bay  is,  after  all,  no  better 
than  the  South  Cove.  Such  an  argument  cannot  be 
treated  seriously.  If  it  were  carried  to  its  logical 
conclusion,  there  is  no  den  of  iniquity  winked  at  by 
the  law  which  it  might  not  defend,  —  no  outrage  in 
history,  from  tlie  Black  Hole  of  Calcutta  to  Libby 
Prison,  that  it  might  not  justify.  The  argument  is 
as  old  as  iniquity  itself.  "  When  Pilate  saw  that  he 
could  prevail  nothing,  but  rather  that  a  tumult  was 
made,  he  took  water  and  washed  his  hands,  saying, 
I  am  innocent  of  the  blood  of  this  just  person ;  see  ye 
to  it."  And  the  voices  of  the  multitude  prevailed. 
Did  Pilate  cleanse  his  conscience  when  he  washed 
his  hands  ? 

There  is  one  count  in  this  indictment  against  the 
newspaper  which  may  not  be  developed,  and  3^et  it 
may  not  be  ignored.     Not  only  are  shameful  things 


148  THE  NEWSPAPER. 

treated  as  if  they  were  the  rule,  killing  self-respect  in 
the  nation ;  not  only  is  the  sacredness  of  private  life 
violated,  to  the  destruction  of  national  modesty ;  not 
only  is  crime  rewarded  by  giving  it  the  desired  pub- 
licity ;  not  only  is  slander  spread  broadcast  over  the 
land,  killing  peace ;  not  only  is  there  deliberate  mis- 
representation of  political  opponents,  —  but  to  all 
this  is  added  the  worst  of  all,  the  daily  press  is  made 
the  medium  of  communication  between  vice  and  its 
victims.  Not  only  is  it  a  signpost  of  iniquity  to  the 
lovers  of  evil,  but  it  is  a  snare  to  the  innocent,  who 
come  up  to  this  great  city  year  after  year  to  be 
snared,  and  caught,  and  taken. 

What  answer  is  made  to  this  charge  ?  It  is.  That 
evil  does  exist ;  and  that  the  newspaper  is  not  bound 
to  look  after  children  who  do  not  know  what  life 
means;  nor  is  it  bound  to  inquire  into  the  char- 
acter of  its  advertisements.  To  that  I  answer,  in 
the  words  of  Christ,  "  It  must  needs  be  that  offences 
come."  Life  being  what  it  is,  it  cannot  fail  that 
many  will  be  made  to  stumble,  "  but  woe  to  that  man 
by  whom  the  offence  cometh." 

And  now,  my  friends,  who  is  that  man  ?  For  to 
talk  about  evil  in  the  abstract,  and  not  to  show 
where  the  evil  is  caused,  is  worse  than  useless.  I 
say.  Who  is  the  man  by  whom  this  offence  cometh  ? 
Is  it  the  owner,  editor,  reporter,  printer  ?  I  have 
said  that  I  thought  their  sin  was  great ;  I  have  com- 


THE  NEWSPAPER.  149 

pared  their  excuse  to  that  of  Pilate  ;  and  yet  we 
must  not  forget  that  Jesus,  in  his  perfect  justice, 
admitted  that  there  was  something  in  Pilate's  plea, 
"He  that  delivered  me  unto  thee  hath  the  greater 
sin."  Pilate  did  what  the  multitude  desired.  It  was 
the  multitude,  led  by  the  religious  Pharisee  and  the 
cultivated  Sadducee,  that  had  the  greater  sin.  And 
so  is  it  to-day.  If  religious  men  and  educated  men 
read  those  newspapers  whose  evil  influence  they  rec- 
ognize, they  are  responsible  for  them.  Go  into  any 
office  to-morrow  morning,  and  turn  over  the  news- 
papers, and  see  who  make  these  papers  possible. 
Ask  the  man  who  sits  at  the  desk  what  he  thinks  of 
it  all,  and  he  will  say.  Well,  they  are  pretty  bad; 
but  they  cater  to  the  criminal  class,  and  to  their 
friends. 

Why,  my  friends,  there  are  not  enough  criminals 
and  their  friends  in  this  Commonwealth  to  support 
a  newspaper  a  week.  The  sales  are  large,  because 
people  who  are  counted  respectable  like  to  read 
them,  because  men  who  will  not  let  them  come  into 
their  homes  for  fear  of  corrupting  their  children  and 
servants  will  read  them  in  the  office,  and  then  hand 
them  to  the  office  boy,  —  that  is,  to  some  one's  else 
child. 

Is  that  all  ?  No  :  a  newspaper  is  not  supported  by 
its  readers;  it  is  supported  by  its  advertisements. 
Every  man  who  puts  an  advertisement  into  a  disrep- 


150  THE   NEWSPAPER. 

utable  paper  is  helping  it,  and  every  firm  which  keeps 
one  standing  there  is  supporting  it.  Why  is  it  done  ? 
Because,  say  men,  we  are  dependent  upon  the  people 
for  customers ;  we  must  advertise  where  we  shall  be 
seen.  How  does  that  differ  from  the  excuse  of  the 
paper  itself,  which  said,  I  must  be  what  the  people 
want.  If  I  pay  money  to  a  grog-shop  to  let  me 
hang  a  sign  over  the  bar,  I  am  in  part  responsible 
for  the  evil  of  that  shop.  Well,  if  the  saloon  has 
destroyed  its  thousands,  the  press  has  destroyed  its 
ten  thousands.  Ayid  for  this  evil  ive  Christian  people 
are  responsible.  Let  the  sales  of  any  paper  fall  off 
two  hundred  copies  to-morrow,  and  the  owners  will 
consider.  Let  fifty  reputable  firms  withdraw  their 
advertisements,  and  the  tone  of  the  paper  will  change. 

"  When  thou  buildest  a  new  house,  then  thou  shalt 
build  a  battlement  for  thy  roof,  that  thou  bring  not 
blood  upon  thy  house,  if  any  man  fall  from  thence." 
Our  fathers  laid  the  strong  foundations  of  a  new 
house,  of  a  better  civilization,  and  of  a  purer  social 
order  on  the  site  of  this  city.  Of  that  new  house  of 
civilization  the  newspaper  is  the  roof.  It  is  our  glory. 
For  energy,  for  generosity,  for  splendid  organization, 
it  is  the  crown  of  our  business  life.  From  it,  as  from 
a  high  roof,  we  ought  to  have  a  sight  of  the  glory  of 
the  land  :  it  should  be  the  meeting  place  of  wise  and 
noble  minds.     It  should  stand  in  a  purer  atmosphere 


THE  NEWSPAPER.  151 

than  that  of  the  streets  below.  From  it  we  should 
see  the  squalor  and  the  sin  and  the  wrong-doing,  but 
we  should  see  too  that  the  school-house  on  the  hill 
is  mightier  than  the  ignorance  of  the  degraded,  that 
the  bank  is  built  on  the  sure  foundation  of  public 
honor,  that  the  drawn  curtains  shade  a  picture  of  a 
home  of  purity  and  peace  and  joy,  and  that,  above 
all,  tlie  church's  spire  points  to  the  heavenly  city, 
where  nothino:  that  is  unclean  can  enter. 

My  friends  and  fellow  Christians,  it  is  a  thing  for 
you  to  consider.  Before  it  be  too  late,  let  us  build  a 
battlement  for  our  roof,  lest  our  children  and  the 
stranger  fall  therefrom,  and  upon  us  be  their  blood. 


XI. 

THE   DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION. 

God  forbid  that  I  should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  the  world  is  crucified  unto 
me,  and  I  unto  the  world.  —  Galatians,  vi.  14. 

IF  any  one  had  told  St.  Paul  fourteen  years  before 
these  words  were  written  that  lie  would  ever  thus 
express  his  thought  of  the  glory  of  life,  he  would  have 
repudiated  the  suggestion  with  scorn.  The  cross  of 
Christ  had  changed  that  man  so  that  he  had  before 
him  an  altogether  new  and  different  ideal  of  life. 
Let  us  look  at  it  awhile  this  morning,  and  ask  our- 
selves what  Paul  meant  when  he  said  that  the  world 
was  crucified  to  him  and  lie  was  crucified  to  the 
world,  and  that  in  the  cross,  the  instrument  of  that 
suffering,  he  gloried. 

The  crucifixion  of  the  world  to  Paul  by  the  cross 
of  Christ  was  the  crucifixion  of  the  world  to  him  by 
the  power  of  Clirist,  to  whom  also  the  world  had  been 
crucified.  What  does  that  mean?  The  world,  that 
which  stood  around  the  life  of  Christ,  was  crucified 


THE  DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION.  153 

to  him,  that  is  to  say,  was  killed  by  a  life  that  caused 
great  suffering  and  great  agony,  until  at  last  those 
things  that  surrounded  his  life  were  dead  to  him,  and 
had  no  longer  any  power  over  him.  Does  it  seem 
strange  to  you  that  it  should  have  been  necessary  for 
Christ  to  have  passed  through  this  experience  of  the 
crucifixion  of  the  world  unto  himself?  It  will  not 
if  you  remember  that  he  was  the  Perfect  Man,  if  you 
remember  that  every  experience  of  humanity  had  to 
pass  through  Jesus's  life,  and  that  sin  did  not  pass 
through  it  because  sin  is  no  necessary  experience  of 
humanity.  Then  you  will  see  how  necessary  it  was 
even  for  Christ  that  the  world  should  be  crucified 
to  him. 

Let  us  look  at  it  for  a  moment,  and  see  what  it  was 
that  was  taking  place  in  the  life  of  our  Master.  We 
must  not  think  of  the  crucifixion  as  a  thing  that 
took  place  in  the  short  space  between  the  sixth  and 
ninth  hours  of  Good  Friday.  The  crucifixion  of 
Christ  was  consummated  on  Good  Friday,  but  it  had 
been  going  on  through  his  whole  life  ;  first  the  cruci- 
fixion of  the  world  unto  him,  and  then  the  crucifixion 
of  himself  unto  the  world.  When  he  went  up  to 
Jerusalem  full  of  the  thought  of  redeeming  his  own 
people  Israel,  and  they  would  not  listen  to  his  words, 
there  was  the  beginning  of  the  crucifixion  of  the 
world  unto  Christ.  The  hope  of  reforming  the  peo- 
ple  whom   he   loved,   the   Jewish   nation   whom   he 


154  THE  DOUBLE    CRUCIFIXION, 

desired  to  save,  was  killed  before  his  eyes  ;  and  lie 
was  obliged  to  give  up  his  ministry  in  Jerusalem  and 
begin  in  Galilee.  And  the  same  thing  was  repeated 
there  ;  the  fickleness  of  the  people  soon  showed  the 
Master  that  the  hope  he  had  had  in  Galilee  was 
killed.  The  weakness  and  fickleness  of  the  disciples 
whom  Jesus  had  chosen  and  trained,  and  whom  he 
loved  with  an  exceeding  great  love,  was  another 
crucifixion  of  the  world  to  the  Master,  until  at  last 
his  eyes  were  set  towards  the  consummation  of  it 
all,  and  he  knew  that  his  ministry  had  failed,  as 
men  count  failure,  and  that  all  that  he  had  hoped 
to  do  when  he  began  to  preach  the  Gospel  of  the 
kingdom  had  been  frustrated.  Little  by  little  the 
world  had  been  crucified  to  him ;  little  by  little 
the  hopes,  the  desires,  the  longings  of  his  heart, 
had  fallen  dead  at  his  feet,  until  he  went  up  for 
that  last  great  struggle  in  the  city  of  Jerusalem  ; 
and  there  we  find  it  manifesting  itself  in  all  its 
intensity  at  the  end.  He  enters  into  the  garden, 
and  he  prays  :  "  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this 
cup  pass  from  me.  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  do 
not  crucify  the  world  to  me;  if  it  be  possible,  let 
me  live  and  redeem  the  world ;  if  it  be  possible, 
bring  men  to  the  knowledge  of  what  it  is  to  be  thy 
sons  without  this  awful,  shameful  death  ;  neverthe- 
less, not  my  will,  but  thine,  be  done.  If  it  must 
be  done,  then,  0  Father,  I  will  submit." 


THE   DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION.  155 

That  was  the  crucifixion  of  the  world  unto  Christ. 
Everything  that  he  touched,  everything  that  he  de- 
sired, one  by  one  had  fallen  dead  before  him,  until 
at  last  he  stood  out  in  the  presence  of  his  Father, 
forsaken  of  all  men,  without  hope,  without  expecta- 
tion from  the  world.  The  world  of  things  that  could 
be  seen  or  touched  was  dead  to  him,  and  he  stood  in 
the  presence  of  his  Father  to  do  His  will. 

Now,  that  same  experience  had  come  to  Paul. 
Paul  too  had  known  the  experience  of  his  Mas- 
ter. He  had  desired  to  upbuild  the  Jewish  Church, 
and  had  been  very  zealous  in  that  faith,  and  had 
seen  it  die.  He  had  desired  to  go  up  to  Jerusalem 
after  his  conversion,  and  enter  into  the  company 
of  the  Apostles,  and  unite  himself  with  them,  and  do 
their  work  ;  but  they  would  not  receive  him.  He 
had  gone  down  to  Antioch,  and  had  the  larger  rev- 
elation of  the  Gospel  which  was  to  bring  all  men 
unto  the  worship  of  Jesus  Christ.  Then  began  the 
long  and  weary  life  when  he  was  persecuted  in  every 
city,  when  every  dream  that  he  had  ever  had  in  the 
schools  of  Tarsus  or  the  streets  of  Antioch  was  killed 
one  after  another.  Read  that  wonderful  story  that 
he  tells  us  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians  of 
what  his  life  was  :  "  In  weariness  and  painfulness, 
in  watchings  often,  in  hunger  and  thirst,  in  fastings 
often,  in  cold  and  nakedness.     Beside  those  things 


156  THE  DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION. 

that  are  without,  that  which  cometh  upon  me  daily, 
the  care  of  all  the  churches." 

Paul's  life  was  one  long  life  of  crucifixion.  All 
that  he  loved,  desired,  and  wished  to  attain  was  cast 
down,  until  at  last  he  lay  in  the  dark  dungeon  at 
Rome,  waiting  for  the  executioner  that  should  lead 
him  to  his  Lord.  The  world  was  crucified  to  him. 
What  sorrow,  what  suffering,  what  disappointment, 
what  agony  of  spirit,  as  one  dream  after  another 
melted  away,  and  he  bowed  his  head  in  the  power  of 
his  Master  and  said :  "  0  Lord,  if  this  thorn  depart 
not  from  me,  thy  will  be  done.  The  grace  of  God  is 
better  than  the  strength  of  man." 

Now,  are  there  not  some  here  —  rather,  do  not 
all  of  us  know  something  about  this  crucifixion  of 
the  world  to  ourselves?  The  failure  of  health,  the 
failure  of  property,  the  loss  of  those  who  are  dear  to 
us,  the  ending  of  our  dreams,  the  beginning  of  that 
long  life  of  tribulation  without  whicli  we  may  not 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God, —  do  we  not  know 
it,  every  one  of  us  here  to-day,  each  telling  it  to  him- 
self as  he  stands  under  the  shadow  of  the  cross,  each 
asking  himself,  What  does  the  shedding  of  the  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ  mean  for  me  ?  Why  is  the  cruci- 
fixion of  the  world  necessary  for  me  ?  0,  what 
sorrows  some  of  you  have  known,  —  what  trials, 
what    disappointments,    what    weariness    of    spirit  ! 


THE  DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION.  157 

What  are  we  to  say  about  it  ?  Let  us  try  and 
say,  as  Paul  did :  "  By  the  power  of  the  cross  of 
Christ,  the  world  is  crucified  unto  me  ;  those  things 
which  were  once  a  power  in  my  life,  those  things 
for  which  T  once  lived,  without  which  it  seemed  im- 
possible that  life  would  continue,  have  been  taken 
from  me  ;  and  I  bow  my  head  and  say,  '  Not  my 
will,  but  thine,  0  God,  be  done.' " 

When  we  think  of  it,  when  we  let  our  minds 
wander  to-day  beyond  this  little  company  that  is 
gathered  here,  beyond  all  the  companies  that, 
throughout  the  world,  are  gathered  together  to-day 
under  the  shadow  of  the  cross ;  when  we  think  how 
this  crucifixion  of  the  world  unto  the  spirit  of  man 
is  going  on  all  over  the  world,  in  the  darkness  of 
Africa,  where  the  Gospel  has  never  been  preached, 
in  the  twilight  of  Japan,  where  men  know  not 
whether  to  turn  again  to  idols,  or  to  the  gracious 
Spirit  that  is  now  stretching  out  His  hands  unto 
them, —  all  through  the  world  to-day  there  is  going 
on  the  crucifixion  of  the  world  unto  human  spirits. 
Children  born  to  die,  women  without  strength  for 
life's  struggle,  men  meeting  one  disappointment  after 
another,  —  a  life  of  pain  and  suffering,  sickness, 
agony,  fearf ulness,  and  death,  —  is  not  that  a  picture 
of  this  world  to-day  ?  Men  do  not  tell  it  to  one 
another;  we  do  not  know  what  is  going  on.  But 
while  I  speak  to  you  now,  here  in  our  own  city,  there 


158  THE   DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION. 

are  men  and  women  crying  with  great  agony,  "  Lord 
God,  take  only  this  cup  from  me ;  do  not  call  on  me 
to  endure  this  sacrifice.  0,  save  to  me  some  part 
of  that  world  without  which  I  cannot  live ! "  Think 
of  their  agony,  their  fear,  the  awfulness  of  the  pain  of 
the  men  and  women  who  find  that  the  world  is  cru- 
cified to  them,  and  yet  cannot  bring  themselves  to  be 
crucified  to  the  world !  What  is  the  suffering  of  any 
Christian,  what  is  the  suffering  of  Jesus  Christ,  my 
friends,  compared  with  the  agony,  which  he  could 
not  know,  of  the  soul  which  refuses  to  bow  down  its 
head  to  God  ?  Every  soul  that  has  submitted,  every 
soul  that  has  said,  "  Lord,  thy  will  be  done;  I  will 
bear  it ;  I  do  not  understand  it ;  I  cannot  imagine 
why  my  life  has  been  what  it  has  been ;  I  do  not 
know  anything  about  it,  but  I  will  bow  down  my  head 
and  worship,"  —  that  soul  has  known  what  it  is  to 
have  the  world  crucified  unto  it,  to  have  one  thing 
after  another  which  was  the  joy,  the  glory,  and  the 
strength  of  its  life  killed,  and  yet  to  live  unto  God. 

Now,  the  other  side  of  it :  "  By  which  I  am  cru- 
cified unto  the  world."  Turn  back  again  to  the  life 
of  the  Master.  We  have  seen  what  it  was  for  the 
world  to  be  crucified  to  Him.  See  what  it  meant  for 
Him  to  be  crucified  to  the  world.  There  were  certain 
things  which  Jesus  wanted  above  all  things,  as  we 
learn  from  the  Gospel  story,  especially  the  Gospel  of 


THE  DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION.  159 

Saint  John.  He  wanted  to  save  this  world,  and  he 
went  up  to  Jerusalem  and  saw  that  it  was  all  to  end 
in  failure,  as  men  count  failure.  And  one  day  as  he 
stood  on  the  steps  of  the  temple,  there  came  to  him 
one  of  his  disciples,  and  said  that  there  were  certain 
Greeks  that  had  come  up  to  the  festival  and  desired 
to  see  him,  and  Jesus's  spirit  arose  at  one  bound  to 
the  thought  of  the  glory  which  was  now  opening 
before  him,  and  he  stretched  out  his  hands  to  receive 
those  Greeks,  and  to  make  known  to  the  world  at 
large  that  Gospel  which  was  being  rejected  by  the 
Jews,  and  then  drew  back  and  said,  "Father,  my 
soul  is  troubled."  It  was  like  the  stream  that  dashes 
down  the  mountain  side  to  reach  the  ocean,  and  finds 
its  way  blocked  by  some  great  boulder  that  has 
rolled  down  the  mountain  and  choked  the  current  of 
the  stream.  The  stream  is  troubled,  and  knows  not 
whether  it  is  to  pass  all  barriers  and  reach  the  ocean, 
or  whether  it  is  to  turn  and  climb  again  the  hill  from 
which  it  has  descended.  So  it  was  with  Jesus.  He 
knew  not  what  to  do.  "  Now  is  my  soul  troubled, 
and  what  shall  I  say  ?  Father,  save  me  from  this 
hour :  but  for  this  cause  came  I  unto  this  hour. 
Father,  glorify  thy  name."  That  was  the  prayer. 
The  world  had  been  crucified  to  him,  he  would  be 
crucified  to  the  world.  He  would  not  accept  this 
opening  that  was  coming  for  a  larger  revelation  of 
the  Gospel,  because  to  do  so  would  be  to  turn  away 


160  THE  DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION. 

from  the  Father.  "  0  Father,  glorify  thy  name.  Yes, 
the  Gospel  I  do  wish  to  preach  beyond  all  other 
things ;  but  if  that  is  not  the  way,  then  thy  will  be 
done.     Glorify  Thyself  in  some  way." 

And  when  it  was  done,  see  the  peace  that  came 
to  him,  and  how  he  calmly  turned  to  those  men 
and  said,  "Except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the 
ground  and  die,  it  abideth  alone;  but  if  it  die,  it 
bringeth  forth  much  fruit.  I  know  the  Father's  will ; 
I  am  crucified  to  the  world ;  I  will  die  and  bring 
forth  fruit."  He  desired  to  save  those  Jews  whom 
he  loved  with  exceeding  great  love,  whom  he  desired 
above  all  to  know  the  truth  and  the  grace  of  God. 
And  one  day  as  he  stood  talking  to  those  men  in 
Jerusalem,  and  saw  that  every  effort  he  made  re- 
sulted in  failure ;  that  they  deliberately  tried  to  trap 
him  in  his  talk,  that  they  might  have  something  to 
accuse  him  of  before  the  governor;  that  in  every 
way  he  was  thwarted  and  hindered,  he  crucified  him- 
self unto  the  world,  and  said  to  them,  "When  ye 
have  lifted  up  the  Son  of  man,  then  ye  shall  know 
that  I  am  he.  It  will  not  end  in  failure.  Ye  will 
not  hear  my  words.  Ye  will  not  come  to  me  that  ye 
might  have  life.  Ye  will  crucify  me ;  then  shall  ye 
know  that  I  am  he."  In  order  that  they  might  know 
that  he  was  the  Son  of  God,  the  Messiah,  the  Chosen 
of  Israel,  their  Saviour,  he  would  be  crucified  ;  and 
when  thev  had  worked  out  their  sinful  will  upon  him, 


THE  DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION.  161 

having  bowed  his  head  and  given  up  the  ghost,  there 
were  men  that  would  cry,  "  Truly,  this  was  the  Son 
of  God." 

How  many  things  we  might  speak  of  in  which  the 
Master  crucified  himself  to  the  world.  In  that  last 
great  struggle  in  the  garden  of  which  we  have  spoken, 
in  which  the  world  was  being  crucified  unto  him,  his 
first  prayer  was,  "  If  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass 
from  me "  ;  but  it  was  not  the  last.  Jesus  prayed 
again,  "Father,  thy  will  be  done"  ;  and  the  strength 
came  to  him,  and  he  rose  calm  and  placid,  full  of 
serenity  and  sweetness,  dignity  and  power, —  no  trace 
of  the  agony,  no  trace  of  the  sweat,  no  trace  of  the 
anguish  of  spirit.  And  when  poor  Peter  comes  with 
his  sword  and  says,  "  Lord,  shall  we  smite  with  the 
sword?"  he  answers,  "I  could  pray  to  my  Father, 
and  instantly  have  legions  of  angels.  But  how  could 
the  Scripture  be  fulfilled?"  To  fulfil  the  Scripture, 
to  carry  out  that  word  that  God  had  been  prophesying 
through  the  spirit  of  man  in  all  the  ages,  Jesus  would 
crucify  himself  unto  the  world.  After  that  there  was 
no  more  conflict.  He  had  power  to  lay  down  his  life, 
and  he  had  power  to  take  it  again.  That  power  came 
to  him  because  the  world  had  been  crucified,  because 
he  had  crucified  himself  unto  the  world,  — the  power 
to  lay  down  his  life,  and  the  power  to  take  it  again, — 
that  was  the  triumph  of  the  Master. 

Paul  knew  that  triumph  also.     Paul  also  had  been 
11 


162  THE  DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION. 

through  that  awful  experience  of  the  crucifixion  of 
the  world  unto  himself,  and  had  been  through  the 
other  experience  of  crucifying  himself  unto  the 
world,  of  submitting  to  God's  will.  Yes,  that 
was  the  first  step  ;  but  far  more  than  that  of 
rejoicing  in  God's  will,  of  being  so  glad  God's  will 
should  be  accomplished,  of  being  so  full  of  joy  be- 
cause God  should  be  known  to  him  more  and  more, 
and  God's  presence  should  be  a  benediction  upon  his 
life,  that  nothing  seemed  too  hard  unto  Paul  for  him 
to  do  ;  and  he  spoke  these  words  that  we  find  so 
difficult  to  understand,  until  at  least  we  begin  to 
crucify  ourselves  unto  the  world  :  "  I  rejoice  in  tribu- 
lation." "  When  1  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong." 
"  None  of  these  things  move  me,  neither  count  I 
my  life  dear  unto  myself,  so  that  1  might  finish 
my  course  with  joy,  and  the  ministry  which  I  have 
received  of  the  Lord  Jesus." 

What  a  different  spirit,  what  a  new  thought,  what 
a  splendid  ideal,  had  taken  possession  of  this  man ! 
He  had  crucified  himself  unto  the  world  ;  the  things 
for  which  he  had  lived,  which  stood  all  about  his 
life, — wealth,  learning,  success,  popularity,  —  these 
things  no  longer  moved  him  ;  he  cared  not  for 
them.  His  life  had  a  new  ideal ;  it  was  to  finish 
the  work  of  his  Master,  and  accomplish  the  min- 
istry that  had  been  committed  unto  him  by  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ. 


THE  DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION,  163 

Now,  any  man  or  woman  who,  having  passed 
through  the  awful  conflict  of  crucifying  the  world 
unto  himself,  rises  into  that  higher  experience  of 
sacrifice,  the  power  by  which  he  crucifies  himself 
unto  the  world,  —  offers  himself  a  willing  sacrifice 
unto  God,  — has  received  the  blessing  of  the  cross 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

And  if  what  we  have  said  be  true,  then  we  need 
not  say  much  about  the  glory,  because  that  glory 
follows  so  inevitably  from  this  thought.  For  what 
would  have  been  the  life  of  Paul,  —  ay,  what  would 
have  been  the  life  of  the  Master,  —  if  the  world  had 
not  been  crucified  unto  him?  How  satisfied  Paul 
might  have  been  with  the  things  he  saw  and  heard  ! 
How  possible  it  was  that  the  Master  should  have 
lived  out  a  long  Hfe  and  died  in  his  old  age,  no 
man  knowing  the  glory  of  the  cross  !  But  it  was 
because  he  allowed  the  world  to  be  crucified  unto 
him,  and  crucified  himself  unto  the  world,  that  he 
began  to  walk  that  path  that  led  to  Calvary,  and 
endured  all  the  sufferings  of  which  we  read  to-day. 
And  out  of  it  came  the  glory,  the  certainty  that 
he  was  doing  God's  will,  — the  consciousness,  real- 
ized for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  man,  that 
the  glory  of  man  consists,  not  in  having  his  own 
way,  not  in  following  up  the  little  scheme  of  life 
with  which  he  had  begun,  but  that  the  real  glory 
of  man  consists  in  finding  the  will  of  God,  in  sub- 


16 J:  THE   DOUBLE   CRUCIFIXION. 

mitting  himself  absolutely  to  it.  Thus  submitting 
himself,  one  knows  the  glory  which  comes  to  him 
who  knows  and  sees  and  serves  God,  because  his 
life  has  been  cauglit  up  from  the  low  jDlane  on 
which  it  used  to  stand,  and  is  now  on  the  Mount  of 
Transfiguration,  filled  with  eternal  life. 

If  there  be  any  one  here  to-day,  my  friends,  who 
is  all  confused  and  perplexed  about  his  life,  then  let 
him  turn  to  the  cross  of  Jesus  Christ. 

You  may  wonder  that  I  have  said  nothing  about 
sin ;  you  may  wonder  that  I  have  said  nothing  about 
a  redemption  from  sin  by  the  cross.  But  indeed, 
if  I  have  made  myself  plain,  I  have  been  talking 
about  the  redemption  from  sin  all  the  time.  For 
what  is  sin?  —  not  in  its  manifestation,  but  in  its 
root  ?  It  is  selfishness  ;  it  is  self-centredness  ;  it 
is  the  life  apart  from  God.  And  through  the  agony 
of  the  crucifixion  of  the  world  unto  himself,  and 
through  the  sorrow  and  the  suffering  of  the  weeks 
of  crucifixion  of  self  unto  the  world,  the  Master  did 
the  will  of  the  Father,  and  entered  into  such  com- 
munion with  the  Father  as  never  was  possible  until 
the  very  springs  of  his  life  were  discovered,  and  the 
balm  of  God's  love  could  enter  into  the  very  pierced 
heart.  Then  he  knew  the  glory ;  then  he  would  not 
have  turned  back  from  the  cross  ;  and  the  jeers  that 
fell  on  his  dying  ear,  "  If  thou  be  the  Son   of  God, 


THE  DOUBLE    CRUCIFIXION.  165 

save  thyself  and  come  down  from  the  cross,"  had 
no  power,  because  he  was  upheld  as  he  never  could 
have  been  upheld  but  by  the  love  and  the  power  of 
the  Father. 

"  Neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto  myself."  The 
man  that  can  say  that  has  had  the  root  of  sin  de- 
stroyed in  him.  It  has  been  the  cross  of  Jesus 
Christ  that  has  revealed  unto  us  that  sorrow  does 
not  mean  the  wrath  of  God,  but  that  sorrow  may  be 
the  path  of  the  elect  by  which  they  may  walk  to  their 
eternal  glory ;  and  that  the  splendor  and  the  glory 
and  the  power  of  life  are  found  in  that  moment  when 
the  human  soul  has  not  only  yielded  itself  to  God, 
but  even  in  the  shedding  of  its  blood  has  cried  to  God 
for  that  strength  and  that  joy  and  that  peace  and  that 
glory  which  belong  to  the  sons  of  God,  and  which 
only  the  selfishness  of  sin  prevents  entering  into  the 
life  of  every  one  of  us. 

"  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory,  save  in  the  cross 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  The  world  has  been 
crucified  unto  me,  and  I  am  being  crucified  unto 
the  world;  may  that  be,  if  not  the  profession  of 
our  experience,  at  least  the  deepest  prayer  that  we 
put  up  to-day,  as  we  stand  by  the  cross  of  Jesus 
Christ. 


XII. 

THE  NATURALNESS  OF  THE  RESURRECTION. 

For  the  earth  bring eth  forth  fruit  of  herself ;  first  the 
blade,  then  the  ear,  after  that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear. 
—  St.  Mark,  iv.  28. 

WHAT  is  it  that  constitutes  growth  ?  What  are 
its  essential  conditions  ?  The  first  is  a  seed 
containing  potentiality,  and  the  second  is  the  ever 
present,  all-powerful  surrounding  soil.  Given  those 
two  things,  a  seed  containing  within  itself  poten- 
tiality and  an  earth  or  nature  full  of  power  sur- 
rounding the  seed,  and  the  result  will  be  that  the 
earth  will  bring  forth  fruit  of  herself ;  first  the  blade, 
then  the  ear,  after  that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear. 
Look  at  these  words  in  the  original,  and  you  will  see 
that  the  saying  is  stronger  than  it  appears  here  in 
our  English  translation.  What  Jesus  really  said  was, 
"  The  earth  bringeth  forth  fruit  automatically." 

There  is  no  miracle  about  the  growing  of  the  things 
upon  this  earth.  That  is  the  conclusion  that  we  have 
come  to  as  the  result  of  all  the  study  of  nature  that 
has   occupied   the  minds  of  men  now  for  so  many 


NATURALNESS   OF   THE   RESURRECTION.   1G7 

years :  that  there  is  nothing  miraculous  in  the  pro- 
cess that  is  going  on  here  upon  this  planet,  and  that 
there  is  nothing  miraculous  in  the  result  produced 
by  the  action  of  all-powerful  forces  upon  infinite  pos- 
sibilities. There  is  nothing  miraculous,  never  any 
intervention  of  external  power  in  the  long  process ; 
and  no  miracle,  no  flashing  down  of  Divine  power 
from  the  heavens  above  to  produce  at  the  end  the 
glory  toward  which  that  thing  which  was  hidden  in 
the  dark  earth  has  been  tending,  through  the  dark- 
ness up  into  the  light.     Nothing  miraculous  at  all. 

And  philosophy  has  reached  the  same  conclusion. 
Given  what  we  see  here  upon  this  earth,  and  man, 
the  family,  society,  state,  and  church,  have  automati- 
cally been  evolved.  There  is  no  miracle  in  the 
process.  There  is  no  miracle  in  the  result.  How 
modern  this  word  of  Jesus  sounds :  "  The  earth 
bringeth  forth  fruit  automatically ;  first  the  blade, 
then  the  ear,  after  that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear." 

Is  that  the  last  word  that  the  student  of  nature  or 
that  the  philosopher  has  to  say  about  the  process  and 
the  product  of  life?  It  is  not.  No  miracle  in  the 
growth,  no  miracle  in  the  result.  But  turn  over  the 
seed  and  dissect  it :  lay  it  open.  It  is  not  that  which 
we  see  on  the  outside  that  is  the  seed.  Lay  it  open 
once  more.  It  is  not  that  which  we  then  see  which 
contains  within  it  the  potentiality  of  the  lusty  blade, 
and  the  strong  stalk,  and  the  flaming  calyx,  and  the 


168     NATURALNESS   OF    THE  RESURRECTION. 

luscious  fruit.  A  little  farther,  and  yet  it  is  not  even 
that.  At  last  we  come  to  something  so  minute  that 
the  eye  of  man  can  no  longer  trace  it,  and  placed 
under  the  microscope  we  are  not  sure  that  the  eye 
has  seen  that  in  which  the  secret  and  mystery  of  life 
is  hid.  That  in  that  little  embryo,  curled  all  about 
within  its  surrounding  nourishment,  there  should 
lie  the  potentiality  of  the  oak  that  shall  spread  its 
mighty  branches  over  the  plain,  —  that  that  should 
be,  is  the  miracle  and  wonder  of  life. 

Given  that,  given  that  seed,  and  given  also  a  na- 
ture surrounding  that  seed,  pulsating  through  every 
atom  of  matter  in  order  that  that  seed  may  develop 
its  potentiality  into  perfect  actuality,  —  that  is  the 
other  mystery  and  miracle  of  life ;  —  a  miracle,  a 
mystery,  a  wonder,  that  all  men  are  beginning  to  feel 
to-day  as  they  have  never  felt  before,  and  to  cry, 
Back  of  all  phenomena  lies  the  unfatliomable  abyss 
of  wonder.  But  given  the  wonder,  given  the  seed, 
and  given  the  surrounding  earth,  and  then  the  growth 
of  the  blade  and  the  ear  and  the  full  corn  in  the  ear 
is  automatic.  There  is  no  miracle  in  the  process  nor 
in  the  result,  because  the  miracle  is  at  the  beginning. 

Apply  these  thoughts  to  the  story  that  we  have 
come  together  to-day  to  hear  recounted  once  more, 
and  on  account  of  which  to  sing  our  praise  and 
thanksgiving  unto  God,  —  the  story  of  the  resurrec- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ. 


NATURALNESS   OF    THE  RESURRECTION.  169 

There  are  men,  perhaps  they  are  here,  who  say  that 
the  whole  thing  is  so  incredible  that  it  really  ought 
not  to  be  considered  amongst  thoughtful  people. 

And  so  it  is  incredible,  my  friends.  If  we  are 
called  upon  to  believe  that  God  Almighty,  for  some 
caprice,  for  some  reason  that  no  one  of  us  can  under- 
stand, suddenly  violated  the  whole  course  and  order 
of  his  universe,  and  lifted  up  out  of  the  sepulchre 
a  dead  man,  and  set  him  on  his  feet  again,  I  believe 
it  no  more  than  you  do.  But  when  I  turn  to  these 
words  of  Jesus,  I  find  that  what  we  are  apt  to  call 
the  miracle  disappears ;  or,  at  any  rate,  the  miracle 
is  not  to  be  found  in  the  story  of  Easter,  but  in  the 
long  journeys  through  Galilee  and  the  birth  at  Beth- 
lehem. 

Given  that  seed,  and  that  result  is  automatic ;  there 
is  nothing  miraculous  about  it.  Given  that  life,  and 
the  perpetually  surrounding  power  and  love  of  God 
acting  upon  that  life,  being  reacted  back  upon  by  that 
life,  and  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  is  no  mir- 
acle. It  was  automatic ;  it  was  inevitable.  Why,  the 
miracle,  the  wonder,  the  monstrous  abortion,  would 
have  been  that  that  seed,  that  life,  which  all  human- 
ity had  been  thirsting  and  hungering  to  see  and  feed 
upon, — that  that  life  should  have  rotted,  soul  and 
body,  outside  the  walls  of  Jerusalem.  That  would 
be  the  mystery. 

Look  back  for  one  moment  aijain  at  nature.    Think 


170  NATURALNESS   OF   THE  RESURRECTION. 

of  the  great  number  of  seeds,  my  friends,  that  have 
fallen  into  the  earth  and  perished,  —  that  never  have 
made  a  sign  of  putting  forth  blade,  or  ear,  or  the  full 
corn  in  the  ear.  The  great  multitude  that  has  per- 
ished !  Supposing  any  one  had  lived  upon  this  planet 
before  the  glories  with  which  we  deck  our  church 
to-day  had  been  evolved,  and  had  said,  The  day  will 
come  when  the  perfect  seed  will  be  planted  in  the 
earth,  and  apparently  die  ;  but  because  of  its  infi- 
nite potentiality,  because  of  its  perfection,  includ- 
ing within  itself  all  that  which  the  dying  seeds  have 
striven  for  and  failed  to  attain,  that  seed,  being 
acted  upon  by  the  ever-present  power  of  the  earth, 
will  live,  and  put  forth  a  finger  above  the  earth,  and 
reach  up  an  arm  that  at  last  will  hold  the  glory  of 
the  fruit  in  the  presence  of  the  sun.  Would  it  not 
have  seemed  incredible  that  any  such  thing  should 
come  to  pass  ?  Yet  every  flower  in  this  church, 
every  glory  with  which  your  house  is  decked  to-day, 
every  blossom  that  you  lay  upon  the  grave  of  your 
little  child,  is  the  fulfilment  of  the  prophecy  of 
nature,  that  the  day  would  come  when  the  seeds 
would  die,  and  yet  live  ;  not  by  miracle,  but  natu- 
rally and  inevitably,  because  they  had  within  them- 
selves that  which  the  dying  seeds  had  not,  —  the 
power  of  life. 

That  is  the  story  of  Jesus   Christ.     That  a  man 
walked  this  earth  who  heard  the  voice  that  every  hu- 


NATURALNESS    OF   THE  RESURRECTION.  171 

man  being  had  heard  from  the  beginning,  —  "My  son, 
give  me  thine  heart,"  —  and  he  gave  it  to  God, — 
gave  it  as  you  and  I  have  never  dreamed  of  giving. 
When  he  was  a  little  child,  when  he  walked  the 
hills  of  Galilee,  when  he  went  into  the  temple  at 
Jerusalem,  when  he  lay  down  in  the  garden,  sweat- 
ing there  in  the  agony  that  preceded  his  death, 
when  he  was  nailed  upon  the  cross,  in  death  itself, 
he  answered  the  voice  of  God  that  had  been  heard  in 
every  human  heart  and  never  perfectly  responded  to 
before,  — "  My  son,  give  me  thine  heart."  "  My 
Father,  I  give  thee  my  heart" 

He  was  the  only  man  that  ever  walked  this  earth 
that  was  filled  with  love  for  God  and  man.  You  and 
I  have^  known  moments  when  God  seemed  very  near 
to  us,  when  we  were  filled  with  the  joy  of  God,  when 
all  things  temporal  seemed  as  naught,  when  to  serve 
our  fellow  men  seemed  to  us  the  best  thing  possible 
in  the  world.  But  that  was  the  experience  of  Jesus 
Christ  day  by  day ;  the  love  of  God  was  in  him  all 
the  time.  He  heard  the  voice  that  we  all  have 
heard,  saying,  "  Hope  maketh  not  ashamed ;  endure 
all  that  comes ;  there  are  better  things  prepared  for 
you."  And  for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him  he 
endured  the  cross,  despising  the  shame,  believing 
that  he  would  be  set  down  at  the  risjht  hand  of  the 
throne  of  God. 

He  heard  the  voice  that  we  all  have  heard,  saying, 


172     NATURALNESS    OF   THE  RESURRECTION. 

"  My  commandment  is  eternal  life."  You  and  I 
have  only  here  and  there  answered  to  the  meaning  of 
that  word,  but  Jesus  answered  perfectly.  Faith  and 
love  and  joy  and  hope  and  obedience,  the  things  that 
you  and  I  strive  after  fitfully  from  time  to  time,  were 
all  of  them  exemplified  in  every  word  and  thought 
and  deed  of  Jesus's  life. 

Here  was  a  seed  the  like  of  which  the  world  had 
never  seen  before,  the  mystery  of  which  can  no  more 
be  explained  than  the  mystery  that  lies  hidden  in  the 
embryo  from  which  the  tree,  in  good  time,  shall 
wave. 

That  is  the  story  of  Easter  day  :  that  this  trust, 
tliis  love,  this  joy,  this  hope  in  God,  were  justified. 
He  lay  down  his  life  for  us,  saying  with  his  last 
breath,  I  will  see  you  again,  and  your  heart  will  re- 
joice with  that  joy  that  no  man  can  take  from  you. 
The  story  of  Easter  is  that  the  faith  and  hope  and 
love  of  Jesus  Christ  were  justified  by  the  resuiTec- 
tion  from  the  dead. 

And  if  you  ask  me  what  that  means,  I  cannot  tell 
you  ;  and  no  man  can  tell  you  what  it  means.  Only 
this  :  that  on  that  Sunday  those  men  that  had  laid 
that  broken  body  away  knew,  as  w^ell  as  you  and  1 
know  that  we  see  one  another,  that  the  presence  that 
was  amongst  them  was  tlie  presence  of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  earth  bringeth  forth  fruit  of  itself.  Given  the 
perfect  human  seed,  given  the  Divine  presence,  never 


NATURALNESS   OF   THE  RESURRECTION.  173 

failing  human  love,  Divine  love,  human  trust,  Divine 
strength,  human  hope.  Divine  joy,  acting,  reacting, 
one  upon  another,  the  result  will  be  eternal  life, 
inevitably. 

And  if  you  ask.  How  is  it,  then,  that  we  do  not  see 
those  now  who  have  gone  away  ?  I  know  not  what  to 
answer  you,  for  I  would  not  deceive  you  with  trying 
to  pretend  I  know  more  than  I  am  ready  to  say  in  the 
church  of  God,  ready  to  say  to  the  face  of  every  one 
of  you.  But  this,  my  friends,  we  must  admit :  that 
there  have  been  men  and  women  not  a  few  who  have 
believed  that  across  the  river  they  have  seen  strange 
shadows  move,  and  that  a  voice  has  come  to  them  out 
of  the  mystery,  and  a  presence  has  nerved  their  arm 
to  mightier  labor,  and  lifted  up  their  hearts  in  better 
love. 

I  know  not.  I  do  not  dogmatize.  But  if  I  am 
asked  why  that  is  not  a  common  experience,  for  my- 
self I  answer  this  :  that  I  believe  the  reason  is  that 
those  we  love  have  not  yet  risen  into  that  perfect  life 
which  God  is  leading  them  to  more  and  more  in  that 
other  world,  as  he  led  them  more  and  more  in  this. 

Only  one  risen  life  has  ever  been  seen,  because  only 
one  eternal  life  was  ever  seen  before  death.  And  if 
those  we  love,  or  if  you  and  I,  were  perfect  as  Jesus 
is  perfect,  we  would  be  able  to  manifest  ourselves 
after  death  to  those  who  have  felt  the  influence  of 


174    NATURALNESS   OF   THE  RESURRECTION. 

our  presence,  as  those  disciples  felt  the  influence  of 
the  presence  of  Jesus  Christ,  not  by  a  miracle,  but 
naturally. 

For  this  is  the  alternative :  either  the  faith  and 
love  and  joy  of  Jesus  Christ  were  justified,  and  he  is 
alive  to-day  with  the  Father  in  whom  he  believed  and 
whom  he  served,  or  that  life  has  been  blotted  out, 
soul  and  body.  For  were  Jesus  alive,  it  could  not 
have  failed  that  he  would  have  shown  himself  in 
some  way  to  the  men  who  put  their  whole  trust  in 
him ;  and  if  he  did  not  show  himself  to  those  men  so 
as  to  convince  them  that  he  who  had  been  dead  yet 
was  alive,  then  we  have  the  other  mystery,  namely, 
this  assembly  here  to-day. 

That  tradition  has  been  an  everlasting  power  from 
the  morning  that  John  and  Peter,  breathless,  ran  to 
the  sepulchre  and  looked  in  and  saw  that  the  body 
was  gone,  and  turned  their  faces  and  saw  one  amongst 
them  like  unto  the  Son  of  Man,  and  went  forth  to 
preach,  and  to  die  preaching,  that  Jesus  Christ  was 
raised  again  from  the  dead.  It  is  no  miracle.  It  is 
the  natural  and  inevitable  result  of  such  a  seed  in 
such  a  soil. 

What  shall  we  do  with  the  story  ?  What  shall  the 
Gospel  of  this  day  be  to  you  and  me  ?  Shall  we  com- 
fort ourselves  with  it,  saying  to  ourselves.  Well,  if  it 
be  true,  then  those  who  have  passed  from  us  have 


NATURALNESS   OF   THE  RESURRECTION.  175 

gone  into  the  eternal  life,  and  have  joy  and  peace  to- 
day with  God  ? 

Yes ;  say  that  to  yourselves  to  begin  with.  Let 
that  thought  take  possession  of  you,  so  that  you  know 
to-day  that  they  are  alive,  in  peace  and  joy,  filled  with 
a  larger  hope,  going  on  from  strength  to  strength, 
satisfied  with  what  God  has  brought  to  them.  Let 
that  thought  take  possession  of  you,  but  do  not  stop 
there. 

This  call  of  Easter  day,  my  friends,  is  the  call  to 
every  one  of  us  from  the  unnatural  life  that  we  are 
living  to  the  natural  life  that  Jesus  revealed.  The 
unnatural  life  is  the  life  of  fear,  is  the  life  of  con- 
tempt, of  scorn,  —  uncharitable,  lustful,  mean^  But 
the  natural  life,  the  life  that  Jesus  lived,  is  the  life 
of  trust,  of  love,  of  peace,  of  joy,  of  labor,  of  eternal 
hope. 

It  is  a  call  to  every  one  of  us  to  the  eternal  life. 
That  eternal  life  is  natural,  and  they  who  lead  the 
natural  life  of  Jesus  Christ  shall  know  the  power  of 
the  endless  life.  Each  one  of  you,  my  friends,  each 
one  of  you,  who  must  surely  lay  down  his  life  and  be 
put  in  the  dust,  —  each  one  of  you  may  find  the  truth 
of  the  meaning  of  the  word  of  Jesus.  "The  earth 
bringeth  forth  fruit  of  herself ;  first  the  blade,  then 
the  ear,  after  that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear." 

0,  if  God,  through  his  power  pressing  upon  your 
life,  through  his  love  flowing  into  you,  through  his 


176    NATURALNESS   OF   THE  RESURRECTION. 

joy  that  surrounds  you,  through  his  hope  that  is 
lifted  before  you,  now,  on  this  Easter  day,  will  lift 
any  one  of  you  from  the  unnatural  life  to  the  natu- 
ral life  of  Jesus  Christ,  I  tell  you  that  you,  like  those 
two  disciples  of  whom  we  have  read,  will  go  away 
unto  your  own  homes  knowing  the  power  of  the 
resurrection. 

Cast  away  to-day  your  sin.  Break  away  to-day 
from  your  old  habit.  Put  your  whole  trust  and  love 
upon  God,  and  strive  to  live  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
and  that  which  to-day  is  only  the  blade  in  most  of 
you,  which  in  some  of  you  is  the  ear,  will,  in  God's 
good  time,  in  all  of  us,  in  the  everlasting  harvest  of 
the  eternal  life,  be,  to  his  glory,  the  full  corn  in  the 
ear. 

0,  may  God  bless  and  fill  you  with  his  peace,  and 
with  his  joy,  and  with  his  love ;  for  if  you  have  that 
the  things  of  time  are  as  nothing  at  all ;  you  are 
walking  as  those  who  are  redeemed  by  the  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  justified  by  his  resurrection. 


XIII. 

THE   NEW   BIRTH. 

Nicodemus  saith  imto  hlm^  How  can  a  man  be  born  when 
he  is  old  ?  —  St.  John,  iii.  4. 

TT  was  my  privilege  to  speak  to  you  last  Sunday  of 
■^  the  words  which  precede  our  text.  We  saw  that 
our  Lord  said  that  no  man  could  see  the  kingdom  of 
God  unless  he  was  born  again,  and  the  question  that 
arose  in  Nicodemus's  mind  I  think  arises  in  our 
minds :  How  is  this  new  birth,  this  birth  from  above, 
to  take  place  ?  Nicodemus  says,  It  seems  as  impos- 
sible as  physical  re-birth.  When  a  man  is  old,  his 
character  is  supposed  to  be  fixed.  Now  how  can  that 
man  change  his  character  when  it  has  once  become 
fixed,  when  he  is  old  ? 

Of  course  the  question  assumes  a  position  that 
Jesus  would  have  been  far  from  admitting.  It  as- 
sumes that  there  comes  a  time  in  a  man's  life  when 
his  character  is  fixed,  when  it  is  impossible  for  him 
to  change.  But  that  is  to  deny  that  man  is  a  child  of 
God;  for  it  assumes  that  a  time  comes  when  man 
loses  the  power  of  turning  to  God,  or  that  the  power 

12 


178  THE  NEW  BIRTH. 

of  God  exhausts  itself,  and  that  is  to  deny  that  God 
is  the  Eternal  Father  of  mankind. 

Jesus  answered  the  question,  not  by  argument,  but 
by  reference  to  history.  He  seemed  to  have  been  sur- 
prised that  such  a  question  should  have  come  from 
the  lips  of  one  of  the  masters  of  Israel.  He  said, 
"  Art  thou  a  master  of  Israel,  and  knowest  not  these 
things  ?  "  The  necessity  for  new  birth,  the  possibility 
of  new  birth  even  when  a  man  is  old,  —  the  whole 
history  of  Israel  testifies  to  this  thing. 

There  was  Abraham  who  was  no  longer  a  youth, 
who  was  the  possessor  of  much  that  men  labor  all 
their  lives  to  acquire  ;  but  he  walked  out  under  the 
stars  at  night,  and  felt  that  the  stars  did  not  govern 
the  destiny  of  man.  He  heard  a  voice  saying,  Come 
out  of  this  old  life  and  I  will  reveal  myself  to  you. 
And  he  believed  God,  and  went  out,  born  again  when 
he  was  old. 

Jacob's  life  was  a  still  more  forcible  illustration  of 
it.  A  man  who  began  with  a  twist  in  his  character,  a 
man  who  began  life  all  wrong,  who  was  the  manifesta- 
tion of  everything  that  is  hateful  in  the  child  life,  — 
cunning,  lying,  deceit,  selfishness,  —  was  changed  ; 
and  that  too  when  he  was  old,  when  he  had  become 
a  father,  when  he  had  gathered  herds  and  multi- 
tudes about  him,  people  dependent  upon  him,  and  had 
become  a  great  chief  in  the  land  in  which  he  was. 
That  man,  touched  by  the  finger  of  God,  was  born 


THE  NEW  BIRTH.  179 

anew,  having  revealed  to  him  at  once  his  own  impo- 
tence and  the  everlasting  power  of  God. 

Moses,  the  violent  man,  the  man  that  supposed  that 
the  wrath  of  man  works  the  righteousness  of  God, 
was  born  again.  When  he  was  old,  there  appeared  to 
him  one  who  showed  to  him  the  sanctity  of  life,  and 
called  him  to  go  in  the  name  of  the  Eternal  and  bring 
forth  the  people  out  of  Egypt. 

Saul  was  born  anew.  It  became  a  proverb,  ^'Is 
Saul  also  among  the  prophets?"  He  saw  the  mean- 
ing of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  for  a  while  he  entered 
into  it. 

Amos  was  born  anew.  A  farmer,  a  man  whose 
life's  purpose  seemed  fulfilled  when  he  had  finished 
his  appointed  task,  gathered  the  figs,  carried  them  to 
the  market,  and  sold  them.  It  seemed  as  if  there  was 
nothing  more  for  that  man  to  do.  But  the  spirit  of 
God  came  upon  him,  and  he  became  a  great  prophet 
to  Israel. 

Now  Jesus  looks  into  the  face  of  this  teacher  of 
Israel,  and  says,  "  Art  thou  a  master  of  Israel,  and 
knowest  not  these  things?" 

Those  are  the  lives  that  are  recorded,  but  what  are 
they  compared  with  the  multitude  of  lives  that  are 
not  recorded  ?  the  men  and  the  women  who  had 
begun  wrong  and  become  right?  the  men  and  the 
women  that  had  grown  to  be  old,  in  selfishness,  in 
indifference,  in   sin,  and  yet   were   renewed  by  the 


180  THE   NEW  BIRTH. 

power  of  God  and  became  new  creatures  ?  Ay,  Nico- 
demus  in  his  own  experience  must  have  known  men 
and  women  who  had  begun  life  wrong  who  now  were 
servants  of  Jehovah. 

Jesus  does  not  argue  with  him.  He  simply  refers 
him  to  history.  He  simply  calls  his  attention  to  his 
own  experience.  How  is  it  that  thou  dost  not  know 
these  things  ? 

Is  it  necessary  to  say  more  ?  The  whole  history  of 
the  Christian  Church  bears  witness  to  this  same  fact. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  enumerate  them.  Paul  and 
Augustine  come  into  the  minds  of  all  us.  Bunyan 
and  Wesley  are  there  too.  Men  and  women  that  you 
and  I  have  known  have  been  born  anew  when  they 
were  old,  when  it  seemed  to  them  and  seemed  to 
others  that  their  character  was  fixed. 

But  there  is  another  question  implied  in  the  words 
of  Nicodemus.  Supposing  the  possibility,  what  is 
the  process  of  the  new  birth  ?  How  are  we  to  think 
about  it? 

There  are  two  ways  in  which  men  may  think  about 
it.  One  is  to  suppose  that  it  is  entirely  dependent 
upon  themselves,  —  that  when  they  see  fit  they  can 
change  themselves  and  become  different  men.  I  do 
not  think  there  are  many  who  think  that,  but  there 
are  some.  There  are  others,  and  they  form  an  im- 
mense majority  of  the  people  who  think  about  this 


THE  NEW  BIRTH.  181 

subject  at  all,  who  are  under  the  impression  that  it  is 
a  thing  that  a  man  has  got  nothing  to  do  with ;  that 
when  the  Divine  Spirit  sees  fit  to  speak  to  a  man,  then 
the  man  will  and  must  respond,  but  that  he  is  as  im- 
potent to  draw  down  the  Spirit  of  God  to  brood  upon 
his  soul  and  quicken  it  as  is  the  seed  in  the  ground 
to  dissipate  the  clouds  and  cause  the  sun  to  strike 
down  beneath  the  earth  and  quicken  it.  How  such 
an  opinion  has  arisen  it  is  not  necessary  for  us  to 
discuss.  The  important  thing  is  to  call  our  atten- 
tion to  it,  that  if  possible  we  may  banish  it  from  our 
minds. 

Jesus  said,  "  Except  a  man  be  born  of  water  and  of 
the  Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God." 
Now  what  does  that  mean  ?  Water  and  the  Spirit ; 
the  lower  and  the  higher ;  the  human  and  the  divine ; 
the  co-operation  of  these  two  essential  elements  in 
life,  water  and  air;  —  unless  these  two  combine,  man 
cannot  be  born  again,  his  character  cannot  be  changed. 
But  lest  Nicodemus  should  become  confused  about 
this  matter,  lie  went  on  to  say  :  "  You  hear  the  wind 
blowing ;  you  cannot  tell  whence  it  comes,  you  can- 
not tell  where  it  is  going.  That  is  the  way  of  every 
one  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit."  That  is  to  say,  the 
Divine  power  and  influence  are  working  all  the  time 
upon  humanity.  There  never  is  a  moment  when  the 
wind  is  not  breathing  over  some  part  of  this  miiverse  ; 
there  never  is  a  moment  when  that  outgoing  of  God's 


182  THE  NEW  BIRTH. 

life  which  we  call  the  Holy  Spirit  is  not  breathing 
upon  humanity. 

Does  a  man  ask  how  the  new  birth  is  produced  ? 
It  is  by  the  co-operation  of  the  human  and  the  Divine. 
This  parable  has  been  fixed  by  the  Church,  by  Christ 
himself,  in  the  symbol  of  baptism.  The  water  is  the 
human  element,  and  that  which  it  symbolizes  is  the 
human  power  of  purification.  That,  put  in  the  tech- 
nical language  of  theology,  is  called  repentance.  Re- 
pentance !  What  does  it  mean  ?  It  does  not  mean 
weeping,  tearing  the  hair,  rending  the  clothes.  It 
does  not  mean  looking  back  over  the  past  life  and 
lamenting  all  that  has  gone  before.  It  is  not  in  the 
power  of  some  men  so  to  look  back  upon  their  lives ; 
it  is  not  in  the  power  of  some  of  us  to  weep ;  I  tliink 
the  word  is  an  unfortunate  one.  The  Greek  word 
would  have  shown  us  at  once  what  Jesus  meant: 
fjuerdvota  means  to  change  your  mind. 

Now  the  man  that  changes  his  mind  purifies  him- 
self. He  turns  away  from  the  old  thing  that  has  had 
dominion  over  him,  and  turns  to  the  new,  to  which 
he  now  desires  to  devote  himself.  It  is  inevitable 
that  in  such  a  moment  there  shall  come  into  a  man's 
mind  a  disgust  for  the  past  life,  —  the  life  of  selfish- 
ness, the  life  of  low  ideals,  the  life  of  contentment  with 
self  and  with  selfish  surroundings.  There  will  come 
a  disgust  in  the  man's  soul,  and  he  will  say,  Is  it 
possible  that  I  was  made  for  this,  that  this  is  the  end 


THE  NEW  BIRTH.  183 

and  object  of  my  life  ?  —  to  go  down  town  every  morn- 
ing and  back  again  at  night,  to  see  more  beautiful 
things  year  by  year  in  my  house,  to  gather  my  books 
about  me,  to  learn  a  little  more,  to  make  myself  more 
comfortable  ?  Is  it  possible  that  this  is  the  last  ex- 
pression of  life,  the  outcome  of  all  the  Divine  power 
that  has  been  moving  in  the  universe  since  the  fiery 
clouds  first  filled  the  firmament  ?  Is  this  the  out- 
come of  it  ?  An  animal,  comfortable,  respecting  him- 
self, respected  of  his  fellovv^  men  ?  Is  this  the  end  ? 
Is  there  no  higher  term  of  existence  ? 

My  friends,  when  a  man  looks  back  over  his  life 
and  knows  that  if  he  has  not  reached  the  limit  of 
his  powers,  and  is  horrified  that  this  should  be  the 
end,  then  that  man  begins  to  repent,  that  man  changes 
his  mind,  that  man  sets  himself  to  reach  a  nobler 
and  a  better  ideal.  Repentance  means,  in  the  simple 
words  of  the  Catechism  that  we  teach  the  children, 
when  we  ask  them  what  is  required  of  those  who 
come  to  be  baptized,  "  Repentance  whereby  we  for- 
sake sin."  The  human  element  in  the  new  birth  is 
repentance ;  the  human  element  is  the  changing  of 
the  mind,  the  setting  of  a  new  and  better  ideal  before 
one's  self  with  the  intention  of  realizing  it. 

Now,  of  course,  by  itself  we  may  say  that  is  useless. 
But  with  it  goes  the  Divine,  —  the  Divine  co-operat- 
ing with  the  human,  the  consciousness  of  pardon,  the 
assurance  of  peace,  the  revelation  of  love,  the  manifes- 


184  THE   NEW  BIRTH. 

tation  of  the  glory  of  God,  the  meaning  of  the  new 
life  that  was  manifested  and  fulfilled  in  Jesus  Christ. 
That  is  God's  part  of  it. 

Do  you  ask  me  whether  God  fails?  I  might  an- 
swer, as  Jesus  did  to  Nicodemus,  the  history  of  the 
Church  will  reply  to  that.  Have  you  ever  known  a 
man  to  repent,  have  you  ever  known  a  man  deter- 
mined to  go  home  to  his  father,  whom  you  did  not 
see  the  father  coming  out  to  meet?  We  have  never 
known  such  a  case.  Ay,  in  our  own  experience  we 
have  never  at  any  particular  moment  of  our  lives 
repented  of  any  harsh  word,  unworthy  deed,  or  foul 
thought  that  the  Spirit  of  God  did  not  enter  through 
the  doorway  that  we  had  burst  open  in  our  effort  to 
escape  from  the  prison-house  of  sin.  It  is  so  all 
through  life. 

How  are  we  to  discuss  it?  Is  the  new  birth  divine, 
or  is  it  human  ?  The  ship  lies  by  the  wharf,  the  sails 
are  on  the  deck.  It  is  a  lifeless  mass  of  wood  or  iron. 
The  breeze  ripples  the  waters  of  the  harbor.  Now, 
then,  what  shall  change  the  ship  into  a  living  thing, — 
the  sails  or  the  wind  ?  Which  causes  the  ship  to  go  ? 
What  a  foolish  question  !  The  sails  are  lioisted,  the 
winds  play  upon  them,  and  the  thing  that  a  moment 
ago  seemed  dead  is  now  alive,  speeding  to  the  harbor 
that  the  master  intends  it  to  reach. 

Is  it  the  sap  in  the  tree  or  the  sun  in  the  heavens 
that  causes  the  fruit  to  ripen  ?     What  a  foolish  ques- 


THE   NEW  BIRTH.  185 

tion !  It  is  the  kissing  of  the  bud  by  the  sun,  and 
the  rising  of  sap  within  it,  that  causes  the  luscious 
fruit  to  ripen. 

Is  it  man  or  God  that  is  the  cause  of  man's  salva- 
tion ?  What  a  foolish  question !  There  are  moments 
when  we  say,  "  We  have  done  that  which  we  ought 
not  to  have  done."  That  means  we  have  done  that 
which  we  knew  we  had  the  power  not  to  do.  That 
is  the  assertion  of  man's  inherent  strength.  And 
almost  in  the  same  breath  we  cry,  "  We  have  no 
health  in  us,"  we  have  no  salvation  within  our- 
selves. There  is  the  confession  of  human  weakness. 
It  is  the  water  and  the  Spirit.  It  is  the  combina- 
tion of  the  Divine  and  the  liuman  that  causes  the 
new  character  to  appear  and  enter  into  the  kingdom 
of  heaven. 

I  say,  that  has  been  fixed  in  the  symbol  of  Chris- 
tian baptism.  And  what  does  that  mean  ?  It  means, 
my  friends,  that  the  door  of  entrance  to  the  Chris- 
tian Church  is  the  symbol  of  that  which  is  the  very 
Gospel  of  the  Christian  Church.  The  incarnation  of 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  manifestation  of  the  oneness  be- 
tween man  and  God,  It  ought  to  destroy  forever 
that  dualism  that  exists  in  so  many  men's  minds, 
and  perplexes  them  in  regard  to  their  position  and  in 
regard  to  God's  work  upon  them.  Man  and  God,  the 
incarnation  has  revealed,  are  one ;  and  everv  human 


186  THE   NEW  BIRTH. 

being,  because  he  is  a  son  of  man,  is  potentially  a  son 
of  God. 

It  seems  to  some  of  you  as  if  this  meant  nothing. 
It  means  everything.  We  walk  in  the  early  summer ; 
we  walk  through  the  highways  and  by  the  hedges  in 
the  country,  and  the  children  pick  a  little  flower,  so 
small  and  insignificant  that  it  seems  hardly  worth 
their  while  to  gather  it.  And  they  bring  it  to  the 
father,  and  say,  Father,  what  is  the  name  of  this 
little,  insignificant  flower  ?  And  he  says.  It  is  a 
rose.  And  they  say,  0  no ;  it  is  not  a  rose,  it  is 
not  a  rose  at  all.  What  shall  we  call  it  ?  You  may 
call  it  the  blossom  of  the  blackberry,  if  you  will,  but 
why  not  name  it  by  -its  highest  name  ?  Why  not 
claim  this  wild  thing  of  the  fields,  and  say,  It  is  the 
sister  of  the  glory  of  your  garden  at  home,  —  it  is 
essentially  a  rose  ?  It  has  to  go  through  many  a 
transformation,  it  has  to  improve,  it  has  to  be  culti- 
vated, and  made  stronger,  and  nobler,  and  better. 
Then  the  perfume  will  be  more  satisfying.  Then 
the  color  will  flash  out  from  it,  as  it  seems  to  realize 
that  it  belongs  and  is  akin  to  the  queen  of  all  the 
flowers. 

So  we  say  to  man.  You  are  a  son  of  God.  And  he 
says,  I  am  not  a  son  of  God ;  I  am  a  sinner,  I  am 
careless,  I  am  indifferent ;  I  am  not  a  son  of  God. 
We  say  to  that  man,  My  friend,  you  are  a  son  of  God, 
and  the  glory  of  your  life  begins  on  the  day  when 


THE   NEW  BIRTH.  187 

you  recognize  yourself  as  the  son  of  God,  and  by 
the  water  of  repentance  and  by  the  illumination  of 
the  Spirit  are  born  into  the  consciousness  of  what 
you  are. 

I  said  to  you  last  Sunday,  We  haye  all  been  born 
once  as  men,  as  intelligent  beings.  But  the  day  was 
when  there  was  no  such  thing  upon  this  earth  as  a 
man.  We  have  been  born  from  the  lower  animals, 
you  and  I ;  but  few  of  us  are  ever  born  anew  into  the 
better  life  which  begins  with  the  consciousness  that 
though  we  are  animals  yet  we  are  the  sons  of  God. 
There  is  need  of  the  new  birth.  We  have  been  born 
out  of  the  old  animal  life,  and  the  struggle  of  life  is 
to  cast  it  off,  and  the  glory  of  life  is  to  enter  into  that 
higher  life  which  begins  —  not  ends,  but  begins  — 
with  the  consciousness  that  we  are  the  sons  of  the 
living  God. 

Now  in  all  this,  my  friends,  these  two  elements  are 
at  work  all  the  time,  —  the  human  and  the  divine. 
There  is  no  part  of  life  in  which  the  higher  is  not 
touching  the  lower,  in  which  the  lower  is  not  quick- 
ened by  the  higher.  So  it  must  be  in  your  life  and 
mine. 

And  now,  in  closing  what  I  have  to  say  to  you 
about  confirmation,  let  me  say  one  word  ;  because  I 
fear,  my  friends,  that  it  is  possible  that  in  these  fre- 
quent appeals  to  you  to  do  that  which  does  seem  to 


188  THE  NEW  BIRTH. 

me  to  be  the  most  essential  thing  in  your  life,  namely, 
acknowledge  yourselves  as  disciples  of  Jesus  Christ 
and  enter  into  the  company  thereof,  in  order  that 
society,  business,  politics,  the  world,  the  family,  the 
individual  self,  may  be  changed,  —  there  is  danger,  I 
say  of  a  misconception,  and  that  is  this. 

We  plead  with  you,  we  argue  with  you,  we  try  to 
induce  you  to  do  what  Jesus  Christ  commanded  and 
asked  ;  and  there  are  men  that  actually  say  to  them- 
selves. Well,  it  seems  very  important  that  I  should 
be  brought  into  the  Church  ;  it  seems  very  impor- 
tant to  the  Church  that  it  should  gain  me.  And  they 
actually  by  means  of  the  Gospel  are  hardened  in  their 
own  self-sufficiency ! 

Yes,  my  friends,  the  Church  wants  you.  The 
Church  wants  every  human  being,  because  God  wants 
every  human  being.  But  it  wants  you  that  it  may 
honor  you,  and  glorify  you,  and  inspire  you.  It  does 
not  want  you  to  patronize  God,  nor  to  pity  Jesus 
Christ  the  King.  When  he  walked  to  his  throne,  the 
cross,  the  women  wailed  and  lamented  him.  But  he 
said,  "  Weep  not  for  me  ;  weep  for  yourselves  and  for 
your  children." 

That  any  man  should  go  through  life,  —  any  man 
upon  whom  the  power  of  God  has  been  working  since 
he  was  born  to  bring  him  to  the  glory  and  dignity 
and  majesty  that  belong  to  him  as  a  son  of  God,  and 
miss   it    all,  —  that  is  indeed   an   awful  catastrophe. 


THE   NEW  BIRTH.  189 

It  is  the  tragedy  of  life.  Not  sorrow,  not  death,  not 
disappointment,  not  failure,  but  not  to  know  the  love 
of  God,  and  the  glory  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  power 
of  tlie  Spirit,  —  that  is  the  failure  of  life.  There  was 
a  certain  man  that  built  his  house  upon  the  sand, 
and  great  was  the  fall  of  it.  Is  that  to  be  the  epi- 
taph of  you  or  me  ?  I  pray  God  not,  and  yet  that  it 
must  be  unless  we  found  the  house  of  our  character 
upon  the  Rock. 


XIV. 

THE   SUFFICIENCY  OF   EVIL. 

Sufficient  unto  the  clay  is  the  evil  thereof. 

St.  Matthew,  vi.  34. 

SOONER  or  later  all  teachers  and  philosophers  are 
brought  face  to  face  with  the  problem  of  evil, 
and  are  expected  by  their  disciples  to  give  some  ex- 
planation of  it.  All  of  these  may  be  divided  into  two. 
1st.  Evil  is  inherent  in  matter,  and  peace  can  only 
be  obtained  by  its  extinction.  This  was  the  belief  of 
one  of  the  best  men  the  world  has  ever  seen,  Buddha. 
2d.  Evil  is  inherent  in  the  mind.  There  is  no  such 
thing  as  evil.  Things  become  evil  by  means  of  the 
action  of  men's  minds.  '•'  There 's  nothing  either 
good  or  bad  but  thinking  makes  it  so."  This  was 
the  teaching  of  another  of  the  best  men  the  world 
has  ever  seen,  Epictetus. 

Both  of  these  great  teachers  gave  rules  for  over- 
coming evil.  Buddha  admonished  to  self-abnega- 
tion, the  destruction  of  the  instrument  of  sensibility. 
Epictetus  taught  self-control,  destruction  of  mental 
activity. 


THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  EVIL.  191 

Jesus  enunciated  no  theory  of  evil.  He  recognized 
it  as  a  fact  to  be  dealt  with,  not  to  be  explained.  And 
he  believed  of  this,  as  of  everything  else,  that  it  could 
be  turned  to  good  account  in  the  education  of  man's 
character.  But  there  was  another  way  in  which  he 
differed  from  these  great  teachers :  he  not  only  did 
not  enunciate  a  theory  of  the  origin  of  evil,  but  he 
did  not  believe  that  man  alone  could  work  out  his 
salvation.  He  as  well  as  Buddha  taught  that  if  your 
eye  causes  you  to  offend,  you  must  pluck  it  out ;  he  as 
well  as  Epictetus  taught  that  no  circumstances  mat- 
tered to  him  who  had  the  inward  peace.  But  in  both 
the  power  arose  from  the  consciousness  that  the 
Father  was  with  him. 

It  was  in  that  spirit  that  he  came  to  the  considera- 
tion of  this  awful  problem  of  evil.  He  had  no  sopli- 
isms  to  explain  it  away ;  he  had  no  theory  by  which 
man  might  escape  from  it.  Here  it  is,  —  an  awful  in- 
explicable mystery.  Here  is  man  with  his  affections, 
and  hopes,  and  desires ;  and  here  too  is  sickness, 
and  failure,  and  death.  Over  against  each  column  of 
the  temple  of  life  lies  the  dark  shadow  that  chills  and 
frightens.  The  disciples  turn  to  Jesus,  and  he  says, 
"  The  evil  of  each  day  is  sufficient."  What  does  he 
mean  ?  Why,  he  means  :  Do  not  waste  life  in  trying 
to  evolve  a  theory  of  the  origin  of  this  mystery.  But 
rise  rather  to  the  thought  of  God  your  father,  and 
recognize  that  he  governs,  —  that  he  lets  no  more  evil 


192  THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  EVtL. 

into  your  life  than  he  knows  is  good  for  it.  Each  day 
has  sufficient.  Life  being  what  it  is,  if  there  were 
none  you  could  not  be  educated  by  faith,  if  there  were 
too  much  your  life  would  be  crushed.  However  evil 
arose,  God  governs  it. 

How  ?  By  divisions  of  time.  Our  life  is  divided,  like 
a  ship,  into  compartments.  Though  one  be  flooded, 
the  others  remain  free.  But  for  that  no  life  could 
grow  to  virtue.  But  by  means  of  this  the  life  is  pro- 
tected. Each  division  has  its  allotted  evil,  but  not 
the  evil  of  another.  Infancy  has  indeed  its  helpless- 
ness, but  nothing  more.  And  with  its  helplessness 
goes  constant  care.  Childhood  chafes  under  its  ap- 
pointed tasks,  but  knows  nothing  of  the  burden  of 
responsibility.  Early  manhood  is  heated  with  pas- 
sion, but  does  not  feel  the  chill  of  avarice.  Maturity 
walks  slow  under  the  burden  of  responsibility,  but  its 
steps  are  guided  by  clear  judgment.  Old  age  knows 
much  of  partings,  but  also  the  evening  calm  free  from 
the  burning  heat  of  ambition. 

Thus  our  life  is  guarded.  God  made  us  to  en- 
dure our  share  of  evil,  and  apportioned  that  evil  so 
that  it  might  do  good.  But  what  life  would  tliat 
be  which  anticipated  the  evil  of  its  age,  —  the  in- 
fant on  whom  tasks  were  laid,  the  child  who  burned 
with  passion,  the  youth  on  whom  fell  all  the  burden 
of  life   at   once,  the    man  whose  burden    had   to  be 


THE   SUFFICIENCY  OF  EVIL.  193 

borne  with  the  infirmities  of  old  age  and  the  fever 
of  ambition  ? 

That  which  observation  teaches  of  the  larger  di- 
visions of  time  Jesus  is  trying  to  teach  us  of  the 
smaller.  Sufficient  for  each  day,  he  says,  is  its  own 
evil.  Here  too  the  evil  is  controlled  by  God's  wise 
laws.  In  the  natural  order  of  things  only  a  certain 
number  of  events  can  come  into  a  given  time.  Then 
follows  sleep,  and  again  we  have  to  meet  the  events 
which  come  marching  out  of  eternity  toward  us. 
Not  only  so.  Not  only  is  the  number  limited,  but 
the  possibility  of  their  reception  is  limited  too.  Only 
a  certain  amount  of  sensibility  is  possible  in  a  given 
time.  When  the  messenger  announced  to  Job  the 
theft  of  his  asses  and  oxen,  he  doubtless  felt  a  keen 
pang  of  indignation,  and  when  he  learned  of  the  de- 
struction of  his  servants  there  was  some  sort  of  ap- 
preciation of  the  evil ;  but  when  that  last  breathless 
messenger  arrived,  crying  out  that  all  his  children 
had  perished,  there  was  no  full  appreciation  of  all  it 
meant ;  he  bowed  his  head  and  worshipped.  Later, 
as  day  by  day  he  looked  and  they  never  came,  the 
iron  entered  into  his  soul  and  wrung  from  him  the 
bitter  cry,  "  Let  the  day  perish  wherein  I  was  born ! " 
No  man  could  live  but  for  that  merciful  law  which 
hides  from  him  the  full  meaning  of  his  sorrow,  and 
only  lets  in  day  by  day  a  little  more  of  its  intensity  as 
God  knows  he  is  able  to  bear  it. 

13 


194  THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  EVIL. 

It  is  this  that  Jesus  is  trying  to  teach  us.  Learn, 
he  seems  to  say,  —  learn,  not  only  that  God  sends 
the  good  things.  This  he  does  that  you  may  learn  to 
trust  him.  But  also  that  he  controls  the  evil.  Do 
not  loose  yourself  from  that  control,  rather  devote 
your  energy  to  using  it  as  God  intends.  I  believe 
there  is  no  one  lesson  more  essential  for  us  to  learn. 
Until  we  learn  it  in  part  at  least,  there  can  be  no 
marked  spiritual  progress.  Of  the  life  of  each  one 
of  us  is  not  this  some  sort  of  analysis  ? 

There  is  the  daily  burden.  It  has  its  perplexities, 
its  trials,  its  intermingling  with  others'  lives.  It  is 
evident  that  it  needs  quiet,  sweet  temper,  wise  judg- 
ment, and  above  all  great  consideration  for  others. 
Even  with  all  these  essentials,  few  people  are  so  con- 
stituted as  to  be  able  to  do  the  daily  tasks  and  bear 
the  daily  trials  without  a  loss  of  what  we  call  vitality. 
But  how  seldom  we  appreciate  the  seriousness  of  each 
day's  life  ;  and  so,  instead  of  using  all  our  energy  to 
make  the  most  of  the  present,  we  lose  some  of  it  by 
necessary  friction,  more  in  anticipating  and  trying  to 
provide  against  coming  trouble,  until  we  become  irri- 
table and  overbearing,  —  and  then  what?  Some  day 
some  overwhelming  calamity  comes ;  our  strength 
has  been  wasted.;  the  anticipated  problems  have  all 
been  changed  by  this  of  which  we  never  dreamed  ; 
then  with  the  new  sorrow  come  new  anticipations  ; 
and  the  sickening  remorse  for  all  the  trouble  caused 


THE   SUFFICIENCY  OF  EVIL.  195 

to  others,  for  all  the  peace  destroyed  because  the 
spirit  chafed  under  the  yoke  of  imaginary  difficulties, 
for  all  the  opportunities  for  sweet  communion  lost  by 
means  of  the  self-absorption  in  the  past  and  future 
trials  of  life.  Such  a  life  cannot  be  long  endured. 
No  spiritual  progress  is  possible  till  we  learn  to  live 
each  day  alone,  —  till  we  rest  in  God's  unfailing 
providence,  —  till  we  believe  that  no  more  than  can 
be  borne  shall  come  any  day,  and  that  all  God  wants 
to  teach  us  by  evil  is  frustrated  if  we  borrow  more. 
Some  men  have  no  great  breaches  of  the  moral  law 
lying  heavy  on  their  consciences ;  but  who  has  not 
some  burden  of  a  faithless  waste  of  energy  which  has 
caused  sorrow  to  those  we  love,  and  loss  to  our  own 
soul's  health?  There  is  no  way  to  rise  from  the 
shadow  of  that  remorse  except  by  the  influence  of 
that  solemn  teaching  of  Jesus :  Each  day  has  its 
own  task,  its  own  burden,  its  own  sorrow,  —  it  may 
be  its  own  agony,  —  but  it  can  be  borne,  it  can  be 
made  to  yield  an  exceeding  weight  of  glory,  if  we  do 
not  add  to  it.  No  man  is  strong  enough  to  hear  what 
God  lets  come  together  with  all  that  he  can  add. 

Opposed  to  this  is  the  life  of  faith  ;  —  the  life  that 
goes  on  each  day,  believing  that  nothing  can  by  any 
means  come  to  it  which  God's  power  cannot  control ; 
asking  itself  less  and  less  why  things  are  as  they  are 
and  more  and  more  what  ought  to  be  done  with  them; 


196  THE   SUFFICIENCY  OF  EVIL. 

sure  that  something  can  be  done  because  God  is 
greater  than  all ;  learning  that  the  life  of  Jesus  is 
what  man  was  made  for ;  earnestly  trying  to  use  the 
awful  experiences  of  life  to  develop  the  hidden  life  of 
the  soul. 

Jesus  gives  us  two  precepts  to  help  us  in  this  work. 
The  first  is  the  consideration  of  nature.  "  Consider 
the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they  grow."  The  calm,  un- 
ceasing, unconscious  activity  of  nature,  —  think  what 
stupendous  results  it  produces.  Yet  there  is  no 
hurry,  no  anxiety,  no  striving  after  effect,  —  nothing 
but  the  simple  appropriation  of  that  which  each  day 
brings.  The  flowers  which  bare  their  bosom  to  the 
sun  in  June  do  not  ask  how  they  will  be  kept  from 
freezing  in  December.  The  tree  that  loses  its  blos- 
soms in  May  does  not  force  back  the  rising  sap  by 
fear  of  the  awful  blasts  of  winter.  And  what  is  the 
result  ?  Night  and  day,  summer  and  winter,  seed- 
time and  harvest,  never  fail.  And  what  is  more,  it  is 
only  through  that  impotence  of  nature  that  man  ex- 
ists upon  this  earth.  Nature  exists  for  the  higher 
life,  which  has  a  power  of  which  she  knows  noth- 
ing. Could  Nature  worry,  could  Nature  change  her 
spring  to  winter  by  anxiety,  could  she  add  to  the 
frost  that  kills  so  many  seeds  earthquake  and  tem- 
pest, chaos  would  come,  and  no  sentient  life  could 
exist  upon  this  planet.  She  cannot,  and  that,  says 
Jesus,  is  why  the  lilies  grow  in  all  their  beauty,  and 


THE   SUFFICIENCY  OF  EVIL.  197 

the  sun  rises,  and  the  rain  falls  on  the  evil  and  on  the 
good.  Yet  there  is  evil  in  nature.  Famine  and  pes- 
tilence, storm  and  tempest,  forest  fires  and  mountain 
volcanoes,  earthquake  in  the  smiling  plain,  flood  in 
the  unsuspecting  valley.  Yet  the  world  goes  on,  and 
is  being  created  before  our  eyes  for  better  life  upon  it. 
Consider  it,  says  Jesus,  consider  it  till  you  learn  that 
it  exists  for  a  life  higher  than  its  own,  by  a  power 
not  its  own,  and  that  its  life  and  stupendous  work 
are  possible  only  because  it  cannot  frustrate  the  work 
of  God.  "  It  neither  toils,  nor  spins,  nor  gathers 
into  barns,"  but  rests,  and  God  clothes  and  feeds 
it.  Consider  nature,  says  Jesus,  and  learn  that  the 
secret  of  its  power  lies  in  its  freedom  from  anxiety. 
Jesus  was  not  the  first  to  teach  this,  nor  will  he  be 
the  last ;  and  had  he  had  nothing  more  to  say,  the 
gain  to  the  world  would  not  have  been  great.  Many 
men  and  women  are  coming  to  feel  the  profound 
truth  lying  in  this  thought,  but  by  dwelling  on  it 
exclusively  they  have  missed  the  Gospel,  —  the  good 
news.  How  many  are  feeling  to-day  that  the  un- 
conscious life  of  nature  is  better  than  the  fretful  rest- 
lessness of  man !  How  many  are  saying,  When  the 
"  fitful  fever  "  we  call  life  has  run  its  course,  we  will 
drink  deep  of  the  anodyne  called  death,  and  sleep 
forever,  undisturbed  by  care,  untroubled  by  dreams. 
This  was  not  Jesus's  thought.  The  unconscious 
power  of  nature  rested  him,  but  the  thought  of  the 


198  THE   SUFFICIENCY  OF  EVIL. 

destiny  of  man  inspired  him.  The  thought  of  evil 
which  will  not  let  man  rest,  the  pricking  goad 
which  will  not  leave  the  flesh  satisfied,  the  earth- 
quake which  destroys  the  home  built  in  such  joy  and 
love,  the  pestilence  that  turns  the  town  into  a  char- 
nel-house, Jesus  felt,  were  all  working  for  a  purpose, 
to  teach  men  that  they  here  can  have  no  abiding 
city,  and  so  teach  them  to  seek  one  to  come,  by 
submitting  their  souls  in  trust  to  Him  who  knows 
what  he  does.  Nature  is  blest  because  she  uncon- 
sciously obeys.  Man  can  be  blest  only  by  conscious 
obedience  and  loving  trust. 

Nothing  shows  us  the  importance  Jesus  attaches  to 
this  more  than  the  way  in  which  he  begs  men  to  look 
at  the  other  picture.  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field, 
and  the  birds  of  the  air.  Consider  their  carelessness, 
and  the  marvellous  results.  Then  turn  to  man. 
Note  his  fever,  his  anxiety,  his  weariness  with  the 
present,  his  regret  for  the  past,  his  fear  for  the  future. 
And  how  little  is  effected !  He  cannot  change  the 
past,  nor  hold  the  present,  nor  see  the  future.  What 
a  pitiful  object  he  is !  To  nature  an  eccentricity,  to 
philosophy  a  fool.  But  to  God  what?  0,  to  God 
a  child,  loved,  longed  for,  waited  for,  cared  for, 
pitied,  as  only  a  father  can  pity  his  own  children. 
Pitied  not  because  the  evil  is  so  great  that  he  can- 
not bear  it,  but  pitied  because  to  the  evil  which  is 
great  enough,  and  has  a  purpose,  he  adds  evil  greater 


THE   SUFFICIENCY  OF  EVIL.  199 

tlian  he  can  endure,  and  which  frustrates  the  awful, 
mysterious  work  of  God. 

I  have  spoken  of  this  principle  as  if  it  applied  only 
to  the  individual  on  whom  evil  falls.  But  its  appli- 
cation is  very  wide.  We  are  not  only  to  be  on  our 
guard  against  adding  to  our  own  burden  through 
anxiety,  but  also  to  beware  of  saddening  others'  lives 
by  complaining  of  our  own  lot.  Their  evil,  too,  is 
great  enough ;  let  no  man  add  to  it.  The  Psalmist 
said,  "  When  my  heart  is  heavy,  1  will  complain." 
He  meant  to  God.  St.  Peter  says,  "  Cast  all  your 
care  upon  God." 

See  then  the  effect  it  might  have  upon  our  lives  if 
we  followed  the  Lord's  teaching.  We  should  give  up 
the  vain  effort  to  understand  the  mystery  of  life.  It 
is  as  impossible  as  to  discern  the  windings  of  a  narrow 
valley  among  the  towering  mountains.  If  we  ever 
reach  the  mountain  top,  the  way  below  will  be  plain 
before  our  eyes. 

We  should  endeavor  to  turn  the  events  of  each  day 
to  good  account.  We  should  be  saying,  "  In  what 
way  can  this  experience  be  used  so  as  to  make  me 
like  Jesus  Christ  ?  How  can  I  live  to-day  so  as  to 
be  the  least  burden  to  others  ? " 

When  that  had  been  done,  we  could  go  still  farther, 
and  enter  into  sympathy  with  the  silent  majesty  of 
nature,  and  regard  it  as  the  perpetual  witness  to  eter- 


200  THE   SUFFICIENCY  OF  EVIL. 

nal  power,  and  the  strong  example  to  feverish,  fretful, 
anxious  man. 

Would  that  be  enough  ?  No.  Man  needs  love,  he 
needs  a  life  which  believes  in  him,  and  sacrifices 
itself  for  him,  and  holds  before  him  an  ideal  the 
attainment  of  which  is  possible.  0  for  One  with  the 
majestic  calm  of  nature  and  the  loving  heart  of  man  ! 
That  has  been  the  cry  of  many  a  soul.  And  many  a 
soul  has  found  the  answer  in  Jesus  Clirist,  —  found 
him  to  be  the  perfectly  satisfying  manifestation  of 
the  mystery  which,  for  want  of  a  better  name,  we 
call  God.  And  those  souls  have  believed  that  every 
experience  of  life  was  an  opportunity  to  come  one 
step  nearer  God.  May  not  we  be  like  them  ?  Jesus 
says.  Yes  ;  only  do  not  take  the  direction  of  your  own 
life  ;  accept  it  as  the  birds  do,  as  the  lilies  do.  Then, 
when  that  has  been  done,  turn  to  God  as  a  son,  and 
say,  '^  For  this  cause  came  I  unto  this  hour.  Father, 
glorify  thy  name." 

Life  is  full  of  joy,  life  is  full  of  sorrow.  Thank 
God  for  all  your  joy,  but  beseech  him  to  save  yon 
from  adding  to  life's  sorrow. 


XV. 

THE   SOUL'S   REFUGE. 

The  eternal  God  is  thy  refuge. 

Deuteroxomy,  xxxiii.  27. 

Tl  ^E  are  called  together  to-day  by  the  Church  to 
^^  consider  what  we  know  of  God.  Let  us  ask 
ourselves,  then,  first  of  all,  how  it  is  that  we  learn, 
how  we  come  by  the  knowledge  of  anything.  Tiie 
answer  will  very  quickly  be  given,  namely,  by  expe- 
rience ;  and  experience,  we  shall  find,  arises  through 
the  consciousness  of  want. 

For  example,  the  child  is  conscious  of  some  want, 
and  through  the  avenue  of  the  want  the  mother 
reveals  herself  to  the  child;  and  as  the  experiences 
of  the  child  increase  in  number,  and  in  intensity 
and  depth,  the  knowledge  of  the  mother  by  the  child 
increases  also.  The  new-born  child  needs  warmth ; 
it  is  supplied.  The  new-born  child  needs  food ;  it  is 
supplied.  Clotliing,  air,  speech,  education  through 
books,  enlargement  of  the  soul  through  companion- 
ship, the  lifting  up  of  a  noble  ideal  through  the  reve- 
lation of  an  older,  wiser,  and  better  soul,  —  all  these 
things  follow  in  the  education  of  the  child's  life. 


202  THE   SOU  US  REFUGE. 

Now,  we  may  call  the  end  at  which  the  child 
arrives  the  result  of  discovery  or  revelation.  But  if 
we  stop  to  think  about  the  matter  for  a  moment, 
we  shall  see  that  experience  is  made  up  of  these 
two  things,  —  discovery  and  revelation  ;  in  other 
words,  that  discovery  and  revelation  are  but  two 
names  for  the  same  thing.  If  we  look  at  it  from 
the  human  or  lower  side,  we  call  it  discovery  ;  but  if 
we  look  at  it  from  the  higher  or  divine  side,  we  call 
it  revelation  ;  because  man  can  discover  nothing  that 
God  does  not  reveal,  and  God  can  reveal  to  man 
nothing  that  man  does  not  ultimately  discover. 

Now,  if  this  be  so,  let  us  ask  ourselves,  What  is  the 
end  of  experience  ?  In  other  words,  Does  experience 
end  with  simple  sensation,  or  does  it  try  to  formulate 
itself  into  a  given  science  ?  If  we  do  this,  we  shall 
find  that  the  human  mind  is  not  satisfied  to  rest  in 
experience  without  trying  to  gather  together  others 
of  a  like  nature.  The  mind  seeks  to  bring  its  knowl- 
edge under  certain  heads  to  which  it  can  refer  the 
larger  knowledge  it  is  continually  receiving,  and  at 
last,  if  possible,  to  resolve  all  into  a  comprehensive 
and  yet  simple  formula.  That  is  the  end  and  object 
of  science ;  and  there  has  no  experience  come  to 
humanity  that  humanity  has  not  followed  up  by  an 
attempt  to  formulate  the  law  of  its  existence. 

So  we  gain  and  retain  our  knowledge.  Experience 
is  the  reaper  that  mows  down  the  grain,  and  reason  is 


THE   sours  REFUGE.  203 

the  binder  who  follows  after,  gathering  into  sheaves. 
Experience  lays  hold  of  some  of  the  great  facts  of 
life  and  names  them.  Reason  begins  to  gather  up 
all  these  scattered  names,  and  group  them  together 
under  certain  heads,  until  it  finds  what  it  calls  the 
law  of  their  association  ;  and  when  that  has  been 
done,  when  the  flowers,  for  instance,  with  all  their 
various  names,  have  been  gathered  up  into  a  few 
typical  groups  and  named  for  those  groups,  then  we 
have  what  we  call  the  science  of  botany. 

I  wish  to  apply  these  thoughts,  which  are  very 
simple,  and  familiar  doubtless  to  you  all,  to  that 
which  brings  us  here  this  morning,  —  the  consider- 
ation of  our  knowledge  of  God.  And  I  think  we 
shall  find  that  it  follows  the  same  law  as  that  which 
our  knowledge  in  any  other  department  of  life  fol- 
lows ;  namely,  first,  the  name  as  the  result  of  experi- 
ence ;  and  then,  secondly,  the  formulation  of  those 
various  names  into  given  groups  ;  and,  lastly,  the 
setting  forth  of  an  authoritative  formula,  which  is 
the  science  of  God,  or,  as  we  more  frequently  call 
it.  Theology. 

The  question  is  not,  as  it  is  sometimes  said,  one 
of  idle  speculation,  —  what  men  have  dreamed  about 
God,  —  because  no  idle  speculation  could  ever  be 
subject  to  this  law  of  Imman  knowledge  which  works 
elsewhere.  It  is  not  idle  speculation  which  has  led 
men  in  different  parts  of  the  world,  at  different  peri- 


204  THE   sours   REFUGE. 

ods  of  the  ^yorld's  history,  with  various  character- 
istics, to  unite  in  agreeing  upon  certain  formulas 
which  express  man's  knowledge  of  God.  No,  it  is 
the  result  of  experience. 

If  you  turn  to  the  history  of  man,  you  will  find 
that  there  are  certain  experiences  which  the  human 
mind  has  undergone  in  its  relation  to  nature.  The 
record  of  the  history  of  mankind  begins  with  an  im- 
pression made  upon  the  mind  of  man  by  the  presence 
of  nature.  Very  often  it  is  an  experience  of  fear; 
nature  seems  so  great,  and  man  so  little.  Some- 
times it  is  an  experience  of  beauty ;  nature  is  so  full 
of  glory  that  the  heart  of  man  rejoices  in  its  pres- 
ence. Sometimes  it  is  the  thought  of  wisdom  in  the 
marvellous  manifestation  of  the  harmony  and  the 
apparent  adjustment  of  nature  to  given  ends,  that  has 
oppressed,  or  rejoiced,  or  astonished  the  heart  of  man, 
as  the  case  may  be.  But  underlying  it  all  has  been 
this  thought,  —  that  Nature  was  somehow  the  enemy 
of  man,  —  that  thougli  she  seemed  beautiful,  though 
she  seemed  wise,  still  she  was  the  oppressor  of  man, 
and  that  some  day  she  that  had  brought  him  forth 
w^ould  devour  him,  and  he  should  pass  into  the  noth- 
ingness from  which  he  came.  And  the  heart  of  man 
grew  sick  and  faint  at  the  tliought  of  the  destroying 
power  of  nature.  And  so  in  every  age  and  nation 
men  have  lifted  tliemselves  up  above  this  overpower- 


THE   SOUL'S  REFUGE.  205 

ing  sense  of  the  glory,  the  strength,  and  the  beauty 
of  nature,  and  have  claimed  kinship  with  One  who  is 
above  it  all,  who  created  it,  who  rules  it,  who  knows 
the  heart  of  men. 

They  have  given  different  names  to  this  Life  that 
was  above  men  and  beyond  nature, —  this  Creator. 
If  the  experience  took  place  in  India,  they  called 
it  Brahma.  If  it  took  place  in  Egypt,  they  called  it 
Ptah.  If  in  Greece,  it  was  Olympian  Jove.  If  in 
Rome,  it  was  Jupiter.  If  in  Judea,  it  was  Jehovah. 
In  all  these  names  there  was  the  thought  of  One 
nobler,  greater,  more  powerful  than  nature,  whom 
man  could  propitiate,  to  whom  he  could  draw  near, 
and  so  be  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  nature. 
"  The  eternal  God,"  it  was  said  in  every  age,  "  is 
thy  refuge." 

Then  came  Jesus.  And  Jesus  said  :  Call  this  power 
no  longer  by  the  ethnic  national  name  of  Brahma, 
Jehovah,  Jove,  or  Jupiter,  but  call  it  by  the  human 
name.  Father.  Creator-Father,  said  Jesus,  is  the 
name  to  give  to  the  Almighty  Power  that  you  have 
felt  in  the  presence  of  nature,  and  to  which  you  have 
desired  to  draw  near,  but  to  which  you  knew  not 
how  to  draw  near.  Call  it  now  what  it  is,  your 
Father.  And  so  there  passed  into  human  speech 
a  new  name  for  God,  no  longer  the  national  name, 
but  the  catholic  name,  because  answering  to  hu- 
man wants  wherever  found.     Men  who  have   heard 


206  THE   SOUL'S  REFUGE. 

the  Gospel  have  said  from  the  time  of  Jesus,  "  God 
is  our  Father.'' 

Now,  if  that  had  been  the  onlj'  want  that  men  had 
experienced,  —  namely,  the  longing  for  a  Life  greater 
than  nature,  for  One  wlio  could  rule  and  govern  na- 
ture, and  save  them  from  its  power,  —  there  would 
never  have  been  any  further  revelation  of  the  name 
of  God,  because  there  would  have  been  no  want  along 
the  avenue  of  which  man  could  have  discovered  God, 
or  God  could  have  revealed  himself  to  man.  But 
there  were  other  wants.  Man  was  not  only  in  contact 
with  nature,  he  was  also  in  contact  with  his  fellow 
men,  and  he  found  this  society  of  which  he  formed 
a  part  filled  with  violence  and  sin,  and  the  dream  and 
hope  of  man's  life  was  that  One  would  appear  who 
should  be  the  King,  who  should  rule  men,  who  should 
make  society  something  better  than  one  tribe  warring 
against  another  tribe ;  should  make  it  a  nation  in 
which  order  and  decency,  and  all  things  that  we  now 
call  civilization,  could  grow  and  flourish.  So  they 
set  up  men  as  kings,  and  called  them  the  "  sons  of 
God,"  because  they  felt  that  no  man  could  be  a  true 
king  who  was  not  in  some  sense  the  representative  on 
earth  of  God. 

But  there  was  another  deeper  thought  as  the  indi- 
vidual became  a  power  in  life.  As  men  became  con- 
scious of  their  own  personality  as  distinct  from  the 


THE   sours  REFUGE.  207 

personality  of  the  tribe,  or  gens,  or  family,  or 
nation  of  which  they  formed  a  part,  there  came  into 
man's  mind  a  desire  for  a  King  of  his  soul,  —  One 
wlio  would  rule  not  only  in  society  and  keep  man 
from  doing  wrong  to  his  fellow  man,  but  who  would 
rule  also  in  his  life,  and  prevent  the  conflict  of  which 
he  was  conscious  between  those  two  powers  wrestling 
in  his  soul,  one  dragging  him  down  to  the  beast  level 
from  which  he  had  been  raised,  the  other  suggesting 
that  he  too  belonged  to  God.  The  heart  of  man 
craved  a  King  of  the  soul,  that  is,  a  Saviour. 

Then  came  Jesus,  and  he  declared  that  he  came  to 
reveal  the  kingdom  of  God.  He  said  the  kingdom  of 
God  was  within  men.  He  said  that  he  was  the  King, 
and  that  any  man  who  came  to  him  should  find  peace, 
because  the  filial  spirit  within  man's  soul  would  re- 
spond to  the  filial  spirit  that  Jesus  perfectly  mani- 
fested, and  so  responding  would  assert  itself  in  man's 
heart  and  rule  there,  and  the  kingdom  of  God  should 
be  set  up  in  the  soul  of  each  individual  man  that 
drew  near  and  swore  allegiance  to  the  King  of  human- 
ity. That  was  the  promise  of  Jesus.  He  said  that 
in  the  realization  of  that  promise  would  come  "  the 
peace  of  God  that  passeth  all  understanding  "  ;  that 
men's  sins  should  be  cast  out ;  that  they  should  have 
the  consciousness  of  pardon,  and  should  know  the 
calm  that  comes  after  the  long  struggle  of  battle. 
And  the  sinners  flocked  to  Jesus  in  troops,  not  be- 


208  THE   sours  REFUGE. 

cause  they  had  any  theological  theory  about  the  for- 
giveness of  sins,  not  because  they  had  any  theory 
about  the  scheme  of  salvation,  but  simply  because 
they  saw  the  beauty  of  holiness  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
Christ,  —  simply  because  they  were  convinced  that 
that  character  was  the  manifestation  of  the  Divine 
Life  that  they  had  thought  or  heard  of  from  time  to 
time,  but  had  now  for  the  first  time  seen  revealed. 

Jesus  called  himself  the  Son  of  man,  the  typical 
man,  the  man  that  reveals  to  humanity  what  mankind 
is ;  and  he  called  himself  also  the  Son  of  God,  the 
One  who  reveals  to  humanity  what  God  is  :  "  He  that 
hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father  also." 

Now,  after  this  preaching  of  Jesus,  there  was  no 
particular  theory  on  which  the  disciples  were  agreed 
as  to  his  relation  to  the  Father.  Simply  the  word 
God  had  enlarged,  for  them,  its  meaning.  They  could 
no  longer  think  of  the  Father  without  thinking  of 
Jesus.  They  could  not  think  of  Jesus  without  think- 
ing of  the  Father.  Somehow  tliey  felt  towards  them 
both  alike.  They  did  not  analyze  their  feelings,  but 
they  knew  tliat  in  some  way  Christ  had  become  as 
God  to  them.  The  heaven  was  not  empty,  the  Eter- 
nal had  not  left  his  throne  when  Jesus  was  born.  No 
such  thought  as  that  ever  entered  their  minds.  They 
did  not  know  how  Jesus  was  related  to  the  Father, 
only  they  felt  that  he  was  to  them  what  God  was  to 
them.     If  they  thought   of  the  Father,  they  thought 


THE   SOWS  REFUGE.  209 

of  Jesus ;  if  they  thought  of  Jesus,  they  thought  of 
th(5  Father. 

It  was  something  like  the  experience  that  goes  on 
in  the  hearts  of  men  to-day.  A  man  looks  into  the 
face  of  his  wife  and  says,  You  have  all  my  love.  And 
some  day  a  child  is  born.  He  does  not  transfer  the 
love  of  his  wife  to  his  child,  he  is  not  conscious  of  any 
change.  He  is  only  conscious  that  his  heart  has  gone 
forth  as  fully  to  the  child  as  it  went  to  the  mother. 
He  has  simply  enlarged  his  conception  of  family. 
Where  his  whole  love  was  given  forth  to  one,  his 
whole  life-love  is  now  given  forth  to  another.  The 
number  of  objects  of  his  love  has  increased,  his  love 
has  increased  with  it. 

It  was  the  same  way,  my  friends,  with  the  disciples. 
It  was  not  that  they  had  more  gods  than  they  had 
before  ;  it  was  simply  that  the  power  of  their  devo- 
tion Godward  had  been  increased  by  the  revelation 
of  Jesus  Christ,  so  that  they  were  able  to  give  forth 
the  love  to  Jesus  and  to  the  Father  that  they  had 
heretofore  given  forth  to  the  Father  alone. 

I  suppose  that  represents  the  experience  of  the 
Church  for  thirty  years  after  the  ascension  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

There  was  also  a  third  experience  that  was  going 
on  in  the  hearts  of  men,  to  which  we  must  now  refer, 
and  that  was  a  suspicion  that  they  were  themselves  in 

14 


210  THE   SOUL'S  REFUGE. 

some  way  allied  to  God,  a  suspicion  that  Jesus  did 
himself  confirm,  for  in  revealing  to  them  himself  as 
the  Son  of  God,  he  revealed  them  to  themselves  as 
the  children  of  God.  He  declared  that  all  men  were 
the  children  of  God,  —  in  other  words,  that  all  men 
were  a  part  of  the  Divine  life.  And  the  question  in- 
stantly arose  through  that  experience,  What  relation 
then  does  God  bear  to  the  individual,  and  in  what 
sense  is  the  individual  a  part  of  God  ?  We  have  come 
to  learn,  men  might  have  said,  that  the  name  of  God 
means  far  more  than  we  used  to  think  it  meant.  We 
have  come  to  learn  that  it  means  the  Father  of  our 
souls,  in  whom  we  find  peace.  We  have  come  to  learn 
that  it  means  the  Perfect  Man,  Christ.  Jesus,  who  has 
saved  us  from  our  sins.  Does  it  mean  more  than  this  ? 
If  not,  then  this  is  the  position  we  are  in.  Mankind 
is  far  away  from  God,  and  therefore  we  must,  by  some 
power  of  our  own,  single  ourselves  out  from  the  com- 
mon humanity  to  which  we  belong,  and  draw  near  to 
Jesus  Christ.  Is  this  the  meaning  of  life  ?  Jesus 
told  them  it  was  not  the  meaning  of  life,  that  when 
he  had  gone  away  from  them,  when  he  had  with- 
drawn his  physical  presence  from  them,  God  would 
be  nearer  to  them  than  he  had  ever  been  before, 
which  they  found  fulfilled  after  the  ascension. 

Whatever  the  story  may  mean  of  the  descent  of 
the  Spirit,  these  men  felt,  as  they  never  had  felt  be- 
fore, their  love  for  God,  their  nearness  to  Jesus  ;  they 


THE   SOU  US  REFUGE.  211 

could  think  of  nothing  else,  and  in  them  awoke  a 
belief  that  they  were  but  a  spark  of  that  Life  which 
had  been  perfected  and  revealed  in  Jesus,  and  that 
God  was  somehow  dwelling  in  them  to  flame  that 
spark,  that  it  might  become  united,  and  yet  not  be 
absorbed  in  the  Eternal  Life  wliich  had  created  all 
things,  and  had  been  revealed  in  Jesus  Christ. 

So  men  found  that  their  thought  of  God  had  en- 
larged again.  It  meant  the  Creator ;  it  meant  the 
Saviour ;  it  meant  the  Spirit  that  spoke  to  them 
through  conscience,  and  revealed  to  them  duty,  that 
lifted  up  before  them  the  glory  of  hope,  that  was  be- 
side them  in  the  hour  of  despondency,  that  cheered 
them  on  to  the  battle,  when  the  voices  of  the  senses 
seemed  with  their  clamor  to  drown  the  still,  small 
voice  of  God. 

Now,  my  friends,  these  experiences  are  just  as  real 
as  walking  upon  the  earth,  or  gazing  upon  the  stars, 
or  taking  hold  of  the  hand  of  our  fellow  men.  They 
are  experiences  of  which  some  men  have  been  more 
vividly  conscious  than  others,  but  of  which  all  men 
have  in  some  sort  known  the  meaning. 

Now,  then,  that  being  so,  is  it  possible  to  have  a 
science  of  this  ?  Is  it  possible  to  draw  these  varied 
experiences  together  and  give  to  them  a  name  ?  If  so, 
we  have  the  science  of  the  experience  by  man  of  God. 
It  is  exactly  that  which  the  Church  undertook  to  do. 


212  THE   sours  REFUGE. 

She  did  not  do  it  at  once.  There  is  almost  none  of  it 
in  the  Synoptic  Gospels,  though  wlien  you  have  once 
got  the  key  you  find  it  there.  Tliere  is  very  little  of 
it  until  perhaps  thirty  years  after  the  ascension  of 
Christ.  And  if  you  know  your  New  Testament,  —  not 
as  a  Koran,  in  which  every  word  has  an  equal  value, 
but  as  the  literature  of  the  Church,  —  if  you  know 
when  these  different  documents  that  form  our  New 
Testament  were  written,  you  can  trace,  to  use  a 
modern  scientific  term,  the  evolution  of  this  formula 
just  as  clearly  as  you  can  trace  the  evolution  of  any 
physical  science  through  the  literature  of  the  scien- 
tific age  which  preceded  it. 

In  the  Epistles  to  the  Colossians  and  to  the  Philip- 
pians  St.  Paul  begins  to  try  to  formulate  the  mean- 
ing of  the  relation  of  Jesus  Christ  to  the  Father,  and 
it  goes  on  until  we  come  to  the  Gospel  of  St.  John, 
where  the  life  revealed  in  Jesus  Christ  is  identified 
with  the  Eternal  Logos,  the  Reason  of  God,  the 
human  side  of  God,  that  was  not  made  when  Jesus 
was  made,  but  existed  from  all  eternity  ;  for  tliere 
never  was  a  time  when  God  did  not  have  within  him 
the  potentiality  of  humanity,  and  that  potentiality  be- 
came actual  in  Jesus  Christ.  This  was  denied,  not 
because  it  was  in  conflict  with  reason,  but  because 
it  was  in  conflict  with  Oriental  theories  of  matter 
and  spirit. 

And  so  one  writer  after  another  tried  to  formulate 


THE   sours  REFUGE.  213 

the  science  of  the  relation  of  man  to  God ;  and  it 
was  not  completed  until  the  Council  of  Nicsea  in  the 
year  325,  when  was  put  forth  the  creed,  afterwards 
modified  by  the  Council  of  Constantinople,  which 
the  Church  directs  us  to  use,  especially  on  Trinity 
Sunday.  An  attempt  was  made  then  to  formulate 
the  experience  of  a  human  soul  in  contact  with  God. 
This  was  put  forth  with  authority  ;  it  was  accepted 
with  authority,  too,  —  the  authority  of  reason.^  But 
neither  in  the  creed  of  Nicaea,  nor  in  the  so  called 
Apostle's  Creed,  nor  in  the  Bible,  is  there  one  word 
about  three  persons  and  one  God,  or  one  person  and 
'three  Gods.  That  was  a  later  addition  ;  and  I  ven- 
ture to  say  that  the  whole  difficulty  that  arises  in  the 
minds  of  thoughtful  people  about  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity,  and  that  which  gives  a  handle  to  the  vain 
scoffers  who  speak  about  that  which  has  been  the 
very  refuge  of  the  human  soul  in  all  these  Christian 
ages  as  if  it  were  a  contradiction  that  any  child  who 
knew  how  to  subtract  and  add  could  rectify,  —  I  ven- 
ture to  say  that  all  these  difficulties  have  resulted 
from  the  introduction  of  certain  philosophical  terms 
which  have  no  place  here. 

The  last  addition  in  the  attempt  to  formulate  the 
Christian  science  of  the  relation  of  man  to  God  is 
found   in    the   First    Epistle  of  St.  John,  where  we 

1  "Servatur  ubique  Jus  Romanum  iion  ratione  imperii  sed  ratio- 
nis  imperio."  Laferriere,  quoted  iu  Lowell's  "Eve  of  the  French 
Revolution." 


214  THE   sours  REFUGE. 

read :  "  There  are  three  that  bear  record  in  heaven, 
the  Father,  the  Word,  and  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  these 
three  are  one."  That  is  no  part  of  the  Bible.  It 
never  was  written  by  St.  John.  It  was  not  written 
until  after  the  Nicsean  Council.  It  was  put  into  the 
Bible  as  the  expression  of  the  Church's  belief  in 
regard  to  God.  I  believe  it  to  be  true ;  but  it  is  no 
part  of  the  Bible,  and  it  confuses  and  troubles  us 
when  we  find  the  last  term  of  the  evolution  intro- 
duced at  the  very  beginning  of  the  process. 

There  are  two  theories  in  regard  to  the  being  of 
God.  No  man  is  prepared  to  say  which  of  them  is 
the  more  nearly  correct.  The  word  "  person "  is 
used  now  in  a  very  different  sense  from  that  in 
which  it  was  used  when  the  creed  was  formulated,  — 
so  different  as  almost  to  be  a  contradiction  in  terms. 
The  word  "  person  "  now  means  to  the  ordinary  mind 
an  individual,  such  as  John,  James,  Peter ;  but  it 
meant  nothing  of  the  sort  originally.  It  comes,  as 
you  know,  from  the  Latin  persona,  and  means  a 
"mask,"  a  "face,"  which  is  a  manifestation  of  some 
particular  phase  of  the  life.  What  was  said  was  that 
in  the  Divine  Life  there  are  these  three  faces.  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ;  and  that  these  three  are  one 
God. 

It  is  practical,  this  faith,  because  it  is  the  result 
of  experience  ;  and  if  it  were  not  that  it  would  have 
no  meaning  for  us. 


THE   sours  REFUGE.  215 

"  The  eternal  God  is  thy  refuge."  There  is  but 
one  God  ;  the  human  soul  need  not  seek  first  one, 
and  then  another,  and  then  a  third,  in  order  to  pj-o- 
pitiate  in  some  way  one  who  is  opposed  to  the  others. 
Not  that,  —  there  is  but  one  God  in  whom  the  human 
soul  may  find  rest. 

But  the  experiences  of  the  human  soul  may  be 
summed  up  in  these  three :  the  want  of  a  Creator, 
who  is  with  man  as  against  the  apparent  enmity  of 
nature,  and  to  that  One  we  draw  near,  and  behold, 
God  has  to  us  the  face  of  the  Father.  And  the 
Creed  says  that  the  peace  that  comes  into  your  soul 
when  you  identify  yourself  with  the  Fatlier-Creator 
is  the  peace  of  God ;  because  that  Father  is  God, 
you  have  identified  yourself  with  God. 

In  the  hour  of  sin,  in  the  discord  of  life,  when  we 
begin  to  doubt  God's  love,  when  we  long  for  One  to 
whom  we  can  draw  near  and  confess  our  sin,  as  we 
can  confess  it  only  to  One  who  has  entered  into  our 
experience  and  known  temptation,  who  has  borne 
sorrow  and  yet  loved  and  trusted  God  through  all,  — 
wlien  we  draw  near  to  that  One  we  see  the  face  of 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Eternal  Son,  and  the  Creed  says.  It 
is  God.  You  have  drawn  near  to  God.  God,  whom 
you  knew  a  minute  ago  as  your  Creator,  you  now 
know  as  your  Saviour. 

Sin  rises  up  within  me  and  says,  Why  try  to  live 
the  ideal  life  ?      Why  not    give    up   and    turn   from 


216  THE   sours  REFUGE. 

sacrifice  to  self?  Why  not  eat  and  drink,  for  to- 
morrow we  die  ?  Why  not  seel?:  the  prizes  of  life, 
instead  of  being  a  servant  ?  And  the  Spirit  says 
within  me,  "  The  eternal  God  is  thy  refuge."  You 
are  part  of  Jesus  Christ  because  of  the  oneness  of 
your  nature  with  his  ;  you  are  part  of  the  Eternal 
God,  and  can  draw  near  to  the  Father  as  a  son. 
The  glory,  the  beauty,  the  splendor  of  your  life  is 
found  in  God.  And  the  Creed  says :  That  is  the 
voice  of  God;  you  have  seen  a  new  face  of  God, — 
the  face  of  God  that  is  within  your  poor,  troubled, 
sinful  soul,  shining  more  and  more  unto  the  per- 
fect day. 

That  is  the  Creed.  One  God, —  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Spirit, —  Creator,  Saviour,  Sanctifier.  That  is 
the  formula  of  the  experience  of  humanity  thus  far 
in  the  conflict  against  sin,  and  in  the  attempt  to 
realize  itself  in  God.  It  is  no  vain  dream  of  philos- 
ophers. It  is  no  contradiction  of  schoolboys.  It  is 
that  which  saints  on  earth  and  the  redeemed  above 
have  found  to  be  the  refuge  of  the  human  soul. 


XVI. 

THE  ARROW  OF  THE  LORD'S  DELIVERANCE. 

Noiv  Elisha  teas  fallen  sick  of  his  sickness  whereof  he 
died.  And  Jocish  the  king  of  Israel  came  down  unto  him, 
and  wept  over  his  face,  and  said,  0  my  father,  my  father, 
the  chariot  of  Israel,  and  the  horsemen  thereof.  And 
Elisha  said  unto  him,  Take  how  and  arrows.  And  he 
took  unto  him  how  and  arrows.  And  he  said  to  the  king 
of  Israel,  Put  thine  hand  upon  the  how.  And  he  put  his 
hand  upon  it:  and  Elisha  put  his  hands  upon  the  king^s 
hands.  And  he  said,  Open  the  window  eastwa.rd.  And 
he  opened  it.  Theii  Elisha  said.  Shoot.  And  he  shot. 
Ajid  he  said.  The  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance,  and 
the  arrow  of  deliverance  from  Syria  :  for  thou  shall 
smite  the  Syrians  in  Aphek,  till  thou  have  consumed 
them.  And  he  said,  Take  the  arrows.  And  he  took 
them.  And  he  said  unto  the  king  of  Israel,  Smite  upon 
the  ground.  And  he  smote  thrice,  and  stayed.  And  the 
man  of  God  was  ivroth  with  him,  and  said,  Thou  should- 
est  have  smitten  five  or  six  times  ;  then  hadst  thou  smitten 
Syria  till  thou  hadst  consumed  it:  whereas  now  thou 
shalt  smite  Syria  hut  thrice.  — 2  Kings,  xiii.  14-19. 

'T^HIS   is   the   last  scene  in  the   historical   drama 
-*-     of  Elisha ;   the  words  which  precede  this  pas- 
sage give   us  very  briefly  tlie  history  of   Joash   the 


218  THE  ARROW  OF 

king.  We  learn  from  this  and  from  other  parts  of 
the  Bible  that  this  king  was  a  brave  general  and  an 
able  ruler,  but  that  his  life  was  a  failure.  He  wasted 
his  energies  in  fighting  against  Judah,  and  simpl}^ 
held  the  Syrians  at  bay  on  the  eastern  frontier  of 
Israel.  And  so,  after  we  are  told  in  this  book  of  the 
burial  of  Joash,  we  have  this  story  put  in,  which  takes 
us  back  to  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  the  young 
king,  and  we  see  him  in  all  the  freshness  and  vigor  of 
his  youth.  He  hears  that  Elisha,  the  man  of  God,  is 
fallen  sick  of  his  sickness  whereof  he  died;  and  with  a 
generous  impulse  the  king  leaves  his  palace  and  goes 
down  to  the  house  of  the  prophet,  and  enters  into 
his  bedchamber.  And  when  he  sees  the  great  prophet 
stretched  helpless  on  the  bed  from  which  he  should 
never  rise  to  walk  again,  there  seems  to  have  flooded 
his  soul  the  memory  of  all  this  one  man  had  done,  — 
how  he  had  been  at  once  poet  and  counsellor  and 
statesman  and  leader.  He  thought  of  the  reign  that 
was  opening  before  him ;  he  thought  of  his  own  help- 
lessness ;  and,  in  the  words  that  Elisha  had  used 
when  Elijah  was  rapt  away  from  his  sight,  he  cried : 
"  0  my  father,  my  father,  thou  art  the  chariot  of 
Israel,  and  the  horsemen  thereof." 

The  old  prophet  roused  himself  and  looked  into 
the  face  of  the  young  king ;  and  perhaps  there  came 
into  his  heart  the  hope  that  now,  at  last,  a  worthy 
son  of  David  was  come  to  reign,  and  he  tries  him. 


THE  LORD'S  DELIVERANCE.  219 

He  tells  him  to  take  the  bow  and  arrows,  which  he 
does ;  and  the  prophet,  lifting  himself  up,  lays  his 
feeble  hand  on  the  strong  hand  of  the  young  king, 
and  through  the  open  window  that  looked  eastward 
toward  their  great  enemy,  Syria  and  Damascus,  he 
tells  the  king  to  shoot  the  arrow,  which  he  does. 
And  then  the  prophet,  full  of  divine  enthusiasm, 
calls  out,  "  It  is  the  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliver- 
ance ! "  and  says  to  the  king,  "  Take  the  arrows, 
take  all  of  them,  smite  upon  the  ground."  And  the 
king  takes  them,  and  smites  three  times,  and  stays. 

The  prophet  falls  back.  0  if  thou  hadst  smitten 
five  or  six  times,  if  thou  hadst  been  filled  with  a 
divine  enthusiasm  for  God's  work,  Syria  should  have 
been  destroyed !  Now,  you  shall  go  down  into  your 
grave  with  only  half  the  victory  won.  That  was  the 
secret  of  the  failure  of  Joash,  king  of  Israel. 

How  the  spiritual  drama  repeats  itself  year  after 
year !  Again  and  again  we  see  young  people  come 
up  full  of  enthusiasm,  full  of  the  memory  of  the 
great  things  that  noble  lives  have  done,  lamenting 
the  glory  that  has  departed  from  the  earth,  feeling 
a  sudden  impulse,  which  like  an  arrow  is  shot  forth 
from  the  soul,  essaying  to  do  some  great  and  noble 
work  ;  and  in  that  moment  the  prophetic  voice  is 
heard  saying.  The  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance ; 
there  lies  the  work  of  your  life.     This  sudden  im- 


220  THE  ARROW  OF 

pulse  that  takes  possession  of  you  in  your  youth,  and 
causes  you  to  shoot  forth  the  arrows  of  the  aspira- 
tions of  your  soul,  —  these  are  the  things,  my  friends, 
that  show  you  the  way  of  the  Lord.  It  is  God's  pur- 
pose that  you  should  be  the  deliverer  of  his  people  in 
the  particular  path  that  he  has  opened  before  you. 

How  that  is  going  on  every  day  !  How  every  day 
at  college  men  are  lifting  up  their  hearts,  and  set- 
ting open  the  windows  of  their  souls,  and  looking  out, 
shooting  forth  the  thoughts  and  hopes  and  desires  of 
their  soul  into  this  great  unknown  world !  And  the 
prophetic  voice  says  to  them.  This  way,  in  the  path 
of  sober  judgment,  in  the  path  of  splendid  manage- 
ment, in  the  path  of  noble  eloquence,  in  the  path  of 
self-denial  for  the  service  of  man,  there  is  the  arrow 
of  the  Lord's  deliverance  ;  there  is  the  path  that  is 
opening  out  before  you  for  a  noble,  splendid,  self- 
denying,  useful,  effective  life. 

How  many  have  heard  that !  How  many  are  hear- 
ing it  this  very  Sunday  morning,  sitting  in  the  silence 
of  their  own  chambers,  and  dreaming  of  the  mystery, 
and  the  splendor,  and  the  opportunity  of  life ! 

And  then  what?  Then  says  the  prophetic  voice 
again.  Smite  upon  the  ground.  Take  these  arrows 
and  bind  them  together,  and  in  a  divine  frenzy  de- 
vote yourself,  soul  and  body,  to  the  work  that  God 
has  revealed  to  you  to  do.  Then  comes  the  critical 
moment   in   a   man's   life.      He   smites   thrice,   and 


THE  LORD'S  DELIVERANCE.  221 

stays.  He  says  to  himself,  I  need  not  do  my  best ; 
I  can  do  about  as  well  as  other  men  and  not  be 
wearied  by  my  work ;  I  have  gifts  that  will  enable 
me  to  live,  and  enable  me  to  attain,  perchance,  a  for- 
tune, and  yet  I  need  not  give  up  the  things  that  make 
life  pleasant ;  I  need  not  turn  aside  from  my  self- 
indulgence  ;  I  will  smite  thrice,  and  stay. 

So  it  comes  to  pass  that  this  great  multitude, 
surging  out  into  the  life  of  the  world  year  after 
year,  equipped,  crowned  as  kings  for  the  work  of 
life,  smite  the  Syrians  but  thrice.  The  work  of  life 
is  but  half  done.  They  remain  failures,  w^hen  they 
might  have  triumphed  gloriously. 

Or  take  another  illustration  of  the  same  thing. 
Here  is  a  woman  who  has  given  herself  up  to  a  life 
of  frivolity  and  vanity.  Perhaps  she  is  not  to  blame 
for  that ;  perhaps  she  has  had  no  ideal  of  noble 
things  set  before  her.  But  some  day  the  casement 
is  thrown  open,  and  she  sees  a  new  life  before  her, — 
a  life  which  shall  be  devoted  to  husband  and  chil- 
dren and  home,  a  life  which  shall  for  the  first  time 
remember  the  great  forgotten  who  dwell  among  us. 
The  hand  of  the  prophet  is  on  that  woman,  and  her 
soul  shoots  forth  the  arrow  of  a  new  desire.  And 
the  voice  says.  It  is  the  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliver- 
ance ;  there  lie  the  glory,  and  splendor,  and  nobility 
of  your  life  ;  there  is  the  path  on  which  God  Avould 
have  you  walk,  and   you   may  deliver  yourself  and 


222  THE  ARROW  OF 

deliver  those  who  live  about  you  from  the  slavery  and 
misery  of  the  false  ideals  that  thus  far  have  domi- 
nated them.  Smite,  says  the  voice  of  the  prophet. 
Devote  yourself,  soul  and  body,  instantly,  to  the  new 
work  that  has  been  revealed  to  you. 

And  she  smites  thrice.  She  goes  to  see  some  poor 
stricken  soul,  and  she  finds  it  tiresome ;  she  turns 
aside  from  some  gathering  of  frivolity,  and  her  soul 
is  parched.  She  undertakes  some  noble  work  of  self- 
denial,  and  she  is  tired.  She  smites  thrice,  and  stays, 
and  goes  down  with  the  great  multitude,  worthless, 
useless,  bringing  no  fruit  to  perfection. 

Listen  to  one  more  example  of  the  same  thing. 
Here  is  a  man  or  w^oman  who  has  come  on  through 
life,  and  suddenly  awakes  to  the  consciousness  of  his 
ignorance  of  the  Divine  revelation  in  Jesus  Christ. 
It  smites  upon  him.  Sometimes  for  one  cause,  and 
sometimes  for  another,  it  comes  to  pass  that  men 
and  women  living  here  in  this  city  suddenly  for  the 
first  time  have  a  revelation  of  the  glory  and  beauty 
and  power  of  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ.  And  they  say 
to  themselves.  Is  the  thing  a  myth  ?  How  has  it  come 
to  pass  that  people  have  dreamed  of  such  a  life  ?  How 
is  it  that  men  and  women  gather  week  after  week,  and 
day  after  day,  to  hear  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
desire  to  serve  him? 

That  man  shoots  forth  the  arrow  of  his  desire  for 
knowledge,  and  the  voice  says.  It  is  the  arrow  of  the 


THE  LORD'S  DELIVERANCE.  223 

Lord's  deliverance.  There  lies  the  path  by  which 
you  shall  walk  into  the  kingdom  of  truth  and  be 
saved  from  your  enemies.  And  he  begins  to  read. 
He  reads  a  little,  and  he  talks  a  little,  and  he  thinks 
a  little.  But  he  learns  before  long  that  there  is 
opening  up  before  him  a  great  and  tremendous  work, 
and  the  scepticism  of  the  time  finds  voice,  and  whis- 
pers, Why  waste  your  energies  to  learn  that  which 
cannot  be  known  ?  Devote  the  energy  of  life  to 
something  that  is  practical ;  turn  aside  from  vain 
dreams. 

So  he,  like  the  others,  smites  thrice  and  stays, 
and  enters  the  great  company  of  sceptics,  —  or,  as 
they  like  to  be  called  to-day,  agnostics,  —  ignorant 
of  God's  eternal  truth. 

The  fact  is  familiar  to  us  all ;  but  what  I  would 
like  to  do  in  the  few  moments  that  are  left  this 
morning  is  to  ask  you  to  consider  with  me  whether 
there  be  not  some  explanation  of  this  constant  fail- 
ure in  life,  in  a  life  which  began  with  a  noble  im- 
pulse, in  a  life  which  heard  the  inspiring  voice  of  God 
speaking  through  the  prophet,  —  if  there  be  not  some 
explanation  of  that  failure  that  perhaps  will  point 
the  way  to  better  things. 

I  cannot  but  think,  my  friends,  that  it  is  largely 
due  to  a  false  conception  of  our  own  value  and  our 
own   work  in  this  world.     I  cannot  but  think   that 


224  THE  ARROW  OF 

these  constant  failures  are  due  largely  to  a  feeling 
that  it  is  a  matter  of  personal  concern  alone.  In 
other  words,  that  it  is  nobody's  business  but  my  own 
whether  or  not  I  make  the  most  of  the  gifts  that 
have  been  bestowed  upon  me ;  that  it  does  not  con- 
cern any  one  except  myself  whether  my  life  be  a 
frivolous  or  a  helpful  one  ;  that  religion  is  a  thing 
between  the  individual  soul  and  Almighty  God,  and 
that  it  is  a  matter  of  no  consequence  to  any  one 
except  myself  whether  I  know  and  acknowledge 
Jesus  Christ  as  my  King  and  Master,  or  whether  I 
drift  on  and  say  I  don't  know. 

Now  Elisha,  the  old  prophet,  and  all  who  with  him 
have  been  filled  with  the  prophetic  spirit,  have  felt 
that  here  lay  the  fallacy  of  life.  It  was  not  a  thing  that 
concerned  Joash  alone  wliether  or  not  he  smote  upon 
the  ground  five  or  six  times.  It  was  not  a  thing  that 
concerned  him  alone,  or  concerns  you  and  me  alone, 
whether  we  devote  ourselves  soul  and  body,  in  the 
power  of  a  divine  enthusiasm,  to  a  nobler,  more  glo- 
rious and  splendid  life,  that  by  the  mercy  of  God  has 
been  revealed  to  us.  It  concerns  God.  It  concerns 
the  kingdom  of  Israel,  by  whatever  name  it  may  be 
known,  —  whether  it  be  the  little  coterie  of  friends 
that  surrounds  you,  or  whether  it  be  the  city  of 
Boston,  or  the  great  Commonwealth,  or  the  nation 
of  which  we  form  a  part.  All  are  concerned,  because 
the  aspiration  of  your  soul,  the  desire  of  your  soul. 


THE  LORD'S  DELIVERANCE.  225 

the  shooting  forth  of  any  aspiration  for  a  nobler  and 
a  better  life,  is  the  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance. 

It  is  Almighty  God  that  has  chosen  you  to  do  this 
particular  work,  to  shoot  the  arrow  of  deliverance 
through  that  particular  casement,  and  to  have  as  an 
object  that  particular  wickedness  which  is  oppress- 
ing his  people.  It  is  not  a  thing  that  concerns  me 
and  you  alone  whether  or  not  we  save  our  own  souls. 
It  does  concern  us,  but  that  is  not  the  whole  of  the 
truth.  The  whole  of  the  truth  is  that  Almighty  God 
has  chosen  every  one  of  you  here,  merchant,  law- 
yer, physician,  woman  of  the  world,  woman  of  soci- 
ety,—  all,  men,  women,  and  children  alike, —  each 
one  of  them  has  been  chosen  by  God ;  and  the  way 
is  revealed  by  the  shooting  forth  of  your  nature  to 
overcome  the  special  evil  that  God  Almighty  knew 
that  you  were  capable  of  overcoming. 

And  we  feel  it,  too.  When  the  Divine  enthusiasm 
takes  possession  of  us,  we  feel  ourselves*  equal  to 
this  work.  And  the  reason  we  fail  is  that  we  forget 
that  it  is  actually  God  that  has  called  us,  and  that 
this  deliverance  is  nothing  less  than  the  deliverance 
appointed  by  Jehovah. 

Now,  suppose  any  man  or  woman  had  that  thought 
take  possession  of  his  soul.  Do  you  not  think,  my 
friends,  that  life  would  be  different  from  what  it  is  ? 
Suppose   it   came   to  any  man   in   this   church   this 

15 


226  THE  ARROW   OF 

morning,  that  the  condition  of  affairs  in  which  we 
are  now  living,  in  our  business  life,  was  nothing  less 
than  slavery.  Suppose  it  was  revealed  to  him  that 
he  was  the  one  chosen  by  God  to  do  a  great  work 
in  this  community,  in  changing  the  ideal  that  has 
taken  possession  of  people  and  enslaved  them,  that 
the  end  and  object  of  life  is  luxury.  Do  you  sup- 
pose, my  friends,  if  this  work  had  been  done  twenty 
years  ago,  there  would  be  so  many  weary  men  this 
day  saying  to  themselves.  What  shall  the  morrow 
bring  forth  ?  Men  dropping  dead  because  they  can- 
not stand  the  strain.  Men  killing  themselves  be- 
cause at  last  the  main  object  that  they  have  in  life 
is  removed  from  their  eyes. 

It  is  the  life  not  of  men :  I  do  not  say,  not  of 
children  of  God,  —  I  say,  not  of  men.  It  is  the  grasp- 
ing, struggling,  awful  life  of  the  beasts  of  the  field. 
This  love  of  gold,  this  thirst  for  liches,  this  heart- 
rending desire  for  luxury,  —  it  has  taken  possession 
of  us  all ;  and  therefore  we  have  such  days  of  awful 
care  and  such  nights  of  fruitless  pain. 

Is  there  no  man  to  whom  better  things  are  re- 
vealed ?  To  that  man  there  has  been  shown  the 
arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance. 

Is  there  no  woman  to  whom  a  better  vision  has 
appeared  of  what  our  social  life  might  be  ?  What  is 
it  now  ?  I  will  not  undertake  to  characterize  it. 
I  would  not  undertake  to  describe  it,  for  it  is  impos- 


THE  LORD'S  DELIVERANCE.  227 

sible.  I  speak,  indeed,  only  of  those  things  which 
are  the  worst  amongst  us.  Of  course  there  is  good, 
there  is  sweetness  and  light.  But  is  not  something 
altogether  wrong  when  it  is  possible  for  a  woman  call- 
ing herself  a  Christian,  kneeling  at  the  table  of  the 
Lord,  and  saying  that  she  desires  to  feed  on  the  body 
and  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  will  live  his  life,  —  is 
there  not  something  wrong  when  that  woman  can 
seek  out  her  bosom  friend  and  say,  as  the  moth 
might  say,  I  sailed  so  near  the  candle  that  my  sides 
were  hot,  and  yet  I  was  not  singed  ?  I  have  come  so 
near  to  sin  that  there  was  almost  scandal,  yet  I  am 
still  received  ? 

The  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance  !  Who  is  the 
woman  that  will  shoot  it  forth  and  change  the  things 
that  are  ? 

The  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance  !  Is  there 
not  need  of  it  in  our  religious  life  ?  Is  there  not 
need  that  we  should  see  that  the  real  work  of  life  is 
not  the  crying  with  our  lips  of  ''  Lord,  Lord,"  but  the 
earnest  doing  of  the  will  of  our  Father  in  heaven  ? 
Is  there  no  man  whose  soul  can  open  and  see  the 
enemy  that  besets  the  Church,  and,  feeling  the 
divine  influence  shoot  out  the  impulse  of  his  life 
against  it,  devoting  himself  to  the  redemption  of 
Israel  ? 

Ah,  if  it  were  done  !  If  that  one  thought  of  which 
I  have  been  speaking,  which  I  find  wrapped  up  in 


228  THE  ARROW  OF 

this  old  story  of  the  King  Joash  and  the  Prophet 
Elisha,  could  take  possession  of  this  congregation 
this  morning,  the  world  would  be  a  different  thing. 

How  do  I  know  ?  Because,  as  I  look  back  over 
history  and  note  what  life  has  been,  —  when,  as 
Browning   says, 

"  I  look  to  the  end  of  work,  contrast 
The  petty  done  with  the  undone  vast, 
This  our  present  with  our  hopeful  past,"  — 

I  know  that  I  have  failed.  But  I  know  I  need  not 
have  failed  ;  I  know  that  God  has  never  inspired 
a  man  to  do  a  work  which  he  did  not  give  him  the 
power  to  accomplish.  Yet  in  all  history  there  has 
been  but  One  who,  shooting  out  the  arrow  of  his 
soul,  smote  upon  the  ground  with  all  the  energy  of 
his  being  and  delivered  Israel. 

There  was  another,  a  young  man  too,  on  whom  the 
hand  of  tlie  prophet  was  laid,  and  he  went  up  into 
the  wilderness  and  climbed  the  mountain,  and  shot 
forth  the  full  expression  of  his  life,  and  he  saw  the 
arrow  fall,  and  it  fell  on  Calvary.  And  he  heard 
the  voice.  It  is  the  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance. 
And  he  said,  Lo,  I  come  to  do  thy  will,  0  God. 
And  by  that  you  and  I  are  saved. 

The  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance.  I  have  tried 
to  illustrate  it  in  this  way  and  that,  by  referring  to 
the  different  experiences  and  energies  of  our  nature. 


THE  LORD'S  DELIVERANCE.  229 

Gather  it  up  in  one  final  word,  The  arrow  of  the 
Lord's  deliverance  is  human  life.  Each  soul  that 
comes  into  this  world  is  shot  forth  by  the  Divine 
impulse,  and  passes  through  darkness  and  sorrow, 
and  sickness  and  weariness  and  pain ;  but  it  speeds 
on  its  way,  and  may  reach  that  which  God  aimed  it 
at  if  it  hear  through  all  the  journey  and  through  all 
the  mystery,  Thou  art  the  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliv- 
erance. You  were  born  that  some  work  might  be 
done,  some  evil  overcome,  that  no  other  soul  in  all 
time  could  do. 

And  if,  my  friends,  we  and  our  children  fail  to 
co-operate  with  God,  the  work  of  God  fails.  But  if 
we  lift  up  our  hearts  and  thank  Him,  not  oppressed 
by  the  burden  and  responsibility,  but  glorified,  in- 
spired, and  ennobled  by  the  remembrance  of  what  it 
means  to  be  the  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance, 
then  life  will  be  strong  and  brave,  and  full  of  glory 
and  full  of  joy. 

May  God  save  you,  save  us,  from  failure.  May 
God  enable  us,  when  the  Divine  voice  speaks,  to  give 
ourselves,  soul  and  body,  to  His  glorious  work ! 


XYII. 

THE   POWER  OF  THE   OBVIOUS. 

Ye  look  at  the  things  that  are  before  your  face. 

2  Corinthians,  x.  7. 

QT.  PAUL  was  speaking  of  the  failure  of  the  Co- 
^  rinthians  to  appreciate  what  he  had  been  to  them, 
and  tells  them  that  this  failure  was  due  to  their  habit 
of  seeing  only  the  things  that  were  before  their  face. 
When  they  looked  on  him,  they  saw  what  some  one 
has  coarsely  but  truly  called  a  blear-eyed  little  Jew ; 
they  failed  to  see  a  soul  which  had  been  made  noble 
and  beautiful  by  communion  with  its  Lord. 

The  fact  itself  is  a  very  common  one ;  the  failure 
of  the  short-sighted  men,  who  judge  according  to  the 
outward  appearance,  to  recognize  the  prince  in  dis- 
guise, has  long  been  a  favorite  subject  with  the  sat- 
irist; and  if  it  only  led  to  the  confusion  which  is 
sure  to  follow  when  the  prince  reveals  himself,  one 
might  laugh  again,  as  we  used  to  do  at  the  discom- 
fiture of  those  who  in  the  fairy  tales  failed  to  see 
what  we  saw. 

But  indeed  this  failure  is  no  subject  for  the  pen 


THE  POWER    OF   THE   OBVIOUS.  231 

of  the  satirist,  it  is  no  comedy,  when  it  enters  into 
the  deeper  concerns  of  life,  —  it  is  a  tragedy.  I  ask 
you  to  consider  with  me,  then,  some  examples  of  the 
power  of  the  obvious  on  the  lives  of  men. 

First,  in  what  it  does  in  the  matter  of  self- 
indulgence. 

When  the  results  of  physical  indulgence  are  ob- 
vious, it  needs  no  orator  to  make  men  tremble  in 
speaking  of  temperance  and  judgment  to  come.  It 
is  so  evident  to  the  poor  wretch  trembling  on  the 
brink  of  paralysis,  or  scared  by  imaginary  dangers, 
that  he  must  stop  in  his  downward  career,  that  it  is 
easy  to  get  from  him  a  maudlin  promise  of  a  new 
life.     He  sees  the  things  which  are  before  his  face. 

But  what  are  we  to  say  to  another  man  who  is 
self-indulgent  ? 

We  may  warn  him  of  the  consequences  which  must 
follow  from  sowing  to  the  flesh ;  but  the  only  conse- 
quences he  regards  are  physical,  and  they  do  not 
seem  alarming.  There  are  men  who  are  temperate 
in  their  intemperance.  They  do  not  get  drunk ;  they 
only  stimulate  a  little.  That  is,  they  draw  every  day 
upon  their  capital.  Were  we  to  tell  them  so,  they 
would  smile  good-naturedly,  and  say,  "  Better  to  burn 
out  than  to  rust  out."  Why  should  I  wish  to  live 
to  be  eighty,  — "  sans  eyes,  sans  teeth,  sans  every- 
thing "  ?     I  harm  no  one  ;  I  am  as  well  as  most  men ; 


232  THE  POWER    OF   THE   OBVIOUS. 

1  am  an  indulgent  father  and  a  thoughtful  husband. 
Suppose  my  voice  is  a  little  thick  as  I  walk  home 
before  dinner,  who  is  the  worse  for  it  ?  Am  I  not 
polite  to  those  I  meet  ?  What  do  you  wish  ?  lam 
warm  and  comfortable,  and  full  of  kindly  tlioughts. 
I  took  a  nip  at  the  bar,  or  a  cocktail  at  the  club,  — 
well,  what  of  it  ? 

What  shall  we  say  to  them  ?  What  Paul  said  to 
the  Corinthians  :  "  Ye  look  at  the  things  that  are 
before  your  face."  You  are  sleek  and  comfortable, 
sound  and  kind  perhaps,  as  we  say  of  a  horse.  If  what 
is  seen  is  all  there  is  to  you,  you  may  be  right,  and 
those  who  dream  of  the  spirit  may  be  mad.  While 
we  look  at  the  things  that  are  before  the  face,  there 
is  nothing  to  be  said  of  these  men.  They  shall  not 
lie  in  a  drunkard's  grave  ;  they  are  strong  and  well. 
But  —  and  here  is  the  tragedy  —  they  have  their  re- 
ward !  This  is  all  they  can  expect.  There  is  no  eter- 
nity for  the  physical  man,  there  is  no  progress.  They 
catch  no  glimpse  of  what  life  might  be.  They  believe 
that  a  voice  was  heard  on  Jordan  saying,  ''  Thou  art 
my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased  "  ;  but 
they  never  dream  that  that  same  approving  voice  can 
be  heard  under  the  Common  trees,  or  in  the  Garden 
walks,  or  on  the  streets  that  lead  them  home. 

O  my  friend,  while  you  look  at  the  things  that 
are  before  your  face,!  cannot  help  you,  —  you  have 
the  best  of  the  argument.     Easy  good  nature,  a  daily 


THE  POWER   OF   THE   OBVIOUS.  233 

increase  of  the  animal  life,  the  dolling  of  the  ear 
and  eye,  —  that  is  what  comes  from  feeding  the 
appetite  on  what  is  before  the  face.  Why  is  it 
sad  ?  It  is  because  the  animal  life  is  but  the 
shadow  of  that  true  life  which  even  now  these 
men  of  whom  I  speak  might  know,  —  a  life  of 
progress,  which  can  no  more  be  content  to  walk 
forever  on  the  same  low  level  than  the  lark  can  be 
content  to  plod  on  the  dusty  road  when  the  open 
sky  calls  it  to  sail  among  the  island  clouds  and  be 
inspired  by  its  purer  air,  —  a  life  that  turns  with 
disgust  from  satisfaction,  and  prays  to  be  filled  with 
humility  in  the  presence  of  wisdom  and  love  such  as 
God's, —  a  life  crowned  with  the  exaltation  which 
comes  with  the  knowledge  that  it  is  the  instrument 
of  God's  will.  To  see  this,  or  any  part  of  this,  is  to 
be  saved  from  that  degradation  of  animalism  which 
comes  to  those  who  look  only  on  what  is  before  their 
face. 

Such  illustrations  of  the  power  of  the  obvious  are 
not  rare,  but  there  is  another  more  common  still. 
I  mean  the  rich  man.  He  too  looks  on  the  things 
which  are  before  his  face.  He  sees  his  neighbors 
vying  with  one  another  in  the  carnival  of  luxury.  It 
seems  the  natural  thing  to  do.  He  has  an  abun- 
dance of  means,  he  adapts  himself  to  the  feeling  of 
the  moment,  he  lives  as  his  neighbors  live.     He  is 


234  THE   POWER    OF   THE   OBVIOUS. 

not  conscious  of  any  wrong-doing.  He  is  indignant 
when  he  reads  of  the  violence  of  the  anarchist  or  the 
ravings  of  the  demagogue.  He  knows  that  his  in- 
come only  suffices  comfortably  to  supply  what  his 
neighbors  have.  He  gives  in  charity,  —  but  after  all 
it  is  grudgingly  or  of  necessity,  —  because  he  shrinks 
from  comment,  rather  than  because  his  soul  leaps  up 
to  greet  an  opportunity  of  doing  good.  So  the  years 
roll  by.  Death  squeezes  some  tears  from  him.  Mar- 
riage and  birth  bring  a  smile.  He  is  well  dressed, 
polite,  well  fed.  He  may  have  an  eye  for  color  and 
think  he  loves  art,  or  a  sensitive  ear  and  think  he 
enjoys  music  ;  but  poetry  has  no  message  for  him. 
He  asks  Science  to  pat  his  sleek  body,  not  to  touch 
with  her  electric  finger  his  imagination  and  free  him 
from  his  prison-house,  and  show  him  the  unseen  uni- 
verse. He  looks  on  the  things  which  are  before  his 
face,  and  never  sees  the  luxury  of  doing  good,  never 
knows  the  robust  thrill  of  a  useful  life.  Yet  what 
might  he  not  be  and  do  ?  With  money  that  gives 
him  leisure  to  learn  the  true  condition  of  the  poor, 
with  the  education  that  has  fitted  him  to  be  a  guide, 
with  the  inherited  refinement  that  could  purify,  such 
a  man  might  know  the  joy,  the  power,  the  glory  of 
life ;  and  he  misses  it  all,  sells,  for  what  he  can  taste 
and  wear  and  touch,  his  birthright  of  happiness  and 
influence.  0  the  pity  of  it !  The  poor  rich !  The 
cultivated  iornorant !     The  sad  merry-makers!     Paul 


THE  POWER   OF   THE   OBVIOUS.  235 

wrote  of  himself,  "  Having  nothing,  and  yet  possess- 
ing all  things."  The  epitaph  of  the  idle  rich  should 
be,  "  Having  all  things,  and  yet  possessing  nothing." 
For  a  man  possesses  only  that  over  which  he  has 
power,  and  which  he  can  make  the  servant  of  his 
higher  nature.  In  that  sense,  how  many  can  be  said 
to  possess  either  learning  or  wealth  ?  Here  is  a  man 
well  educated,  as  we  say  ;  he  stands  in  the  club  win- 
dow with  the  man  he  calls  his  friend,  whom  he  thinks 
he  knows.  Some  day  the  crisis  of  his  life  comes  to 
his  friend,  some  great  temptation  assails  him,  some 
great  agony  wrings  his  soul.  The  things  which  he 
neither  believed  nor  disbelieved  now  stand  before  him 
and  insist  that  he  shall  pass  judgment  on  them :  Is 
tliere  a  God  ?  Is  there  life  after  death  ?  Is  there 
more  of  man  than  is  before  his  face  ?  Will  he  ask 
you  to  help  him  then  ?  Could  you  help  him  if  he 
did  ?  Yet  that  is  the  test  of  friendship.  These 
men  and  women  whom  we  think  we  know  are  spirit- 
ual beings.  They  have  their  times  of  hope  and  fear. 
Can  they  tell  them  to  you?  Yet  they  long  to  tell 
you.  How  their  yearning  eyes  look  into  yours  to 
search  for  some  gleam  of  the  life  of  the  spirit  !  And 
if  they  find  it,  the  hard  man  will  weep,  and  the  cyn- 
ical man  will  thank  you  for  love,  and  the  sinner  will 
take  hope,  and  the  dying  will  put  their  trust  in  God. 
Can  they  find  God  in  you  ?  If  not,  what  has  it 
profited  to  have  gained  the  whole  world  ?     You  have 


236  THE  POWER   OF   THE   OBVIOUS. 

lost  your  soul,  your  true  self,  and  you  have  become 
such  a  thing  as  fashion  makes  instead  of  a  son  of 
man.  I  do  not  ask  what  shall  become  of  such  men, 
I  ask  what  are  they  now ;  and  I  hear  the  words  of 
Christ :  "  This  is  condemnation,  that  light  is  come 
into  the  world,  and  men  loved  darkness  rather  than 
light  because  their  deeds  were  evil."  The  deeds  of 
the  idle  rich  are  evil  because  they  are  selfish.  And 
yet  they  miglit  be  so  different.  The  opportunities  are 
so  many  and  so  near  ;  the  reward  of  joy  and  a  sense 
of  power  is  so  immediate.  Is  there  not  here  some 
wasted  life  that  by  a  supreme  act  of  self-denial  — 
shall  I  not  better  say,  of  self-assertion  ?  —  will  close 
his  eyes  to  the  things  that  are  before  his  face,  —  the 
routine  of  custom,  the  tyranny  of  fasliion,  the  sense- 
less display  of  luxury,  —  and  then  open  them  again 
to  the  life  of  usefulness,  and  joy,  and  power,  which 
is  the  unseen  reality } 

T  have  been  speaking  of  the  more  evident  illus- 
trations of  the  obvious,  but  there  are  many  more. 
For  example,  two  men  are  talking  together  of  that 
question  compared  with  which  all  other  questions 
are  as  nothing.  I  mean  the  being  of  God.  One  of 
them  says,  I  do  not  believe  in  God,  because  there  is 
no  proof  of  his  existence.  The  sun  rises  and  sets, 
the  seasons  come  and  go,  the  sun  waxes  hot  and 
the  fruits  ripen,  the  winter  blows  and  nature  sleeps. 


THE   POWER    OF   THE   OBVIOUS.  237 

It  has  always  been  so.  There  is  no  need  of  External 
Power.  What  shall  his  friend  say?  How  can  he 
prove  the  existence  of  that  which  is  the  one  certainty 
to  him  ?  He  can  no  more  prove  it  to  the  man  who 
looks  only  at  the  things  which  are  before  his  face, 
than  he  can  prove  the  reality  of  the  atmosphere  to 
the  man  who  holds  his  breath  and  yet  insists  that  he 
be  shown  the  impalpable  air.  How  deep  this  runs  ! 
A  man  says,  If  by  God  you  mean  some  tendency  to 
righteousness  in  the  universe,  that  I  believe  in  ;  but 
when  you  speak  of  the  person  of  God,  my  soul  rebels. 
What  is  personality  ?  It  is  limitation.  I  see  per- 
sons all  around  me ;  I  believe  them  to  be  influenced 
by  the  strongest  motive.  I  see  that  what  we  call 
free  will  and  choice  are  the  manifestations  of  con- 
flict. What  is  free  will  but  the  victory  after  struggle 
with  opposing  force  ?  What  is  love  but  the  mastery 
of  the  life  by  some  other  life  ?  The  very  essentials 
of  personality  are  limitations.  What  an  example  of 
seeing  what  is  before  the  face  !  The  whole  argument 
is  the  result  of  making  the  limitations  of  humanity 
the  measure  of  life,  instead  of  looking  to  the  reality 
which  these  limitations  cannot  hold,  saying.  Human 
personality  is  not  the  measure  of  the  Divine  Personal- 
ity, but  only  the  shadow  of  it.  With  all  its  inevitable 
limitations,  the  essentials  of  personality,  free  determi- 
nation, and  love  are  the  doorway  by  which  the  soul 
passes   into  that  larger  life  which  is  about  it,  and 


238  THE  POWER    OF   THE    OBVIOUS. 

feels  that  it  is  realizing  itself.  To  deny  Divine  Per- 
sonality because  human  individuality,  its  type,  is  such 
a  feeble  thing,  is  like  denying  the  sweep  and  power 
of  the  ocean  because  the  little  inlet  of  our  shore  is 
limited  by  the  headlands  which  we  see. 

What  difference  does  it  make  ?  some  man  may 
say.  Why,  this :  if  there  be  no  Being  self-poised  in 
the  perpetual  ebb  and  flow  of  universal  life,  if  there  be 
no  love  which  needs  my  love  as  the  sea  needs  the  drops 
of  rain,  —  not  because  the  rain  is  alien  to  the  sea, 
but  just  because  it  is  a  part  of  it,  —  if,  I  say,  there  be 
no  love  to  which  the  soul  of  man  can  turn,  then  there 
can  be  no  communion.  Well,  if  there  be  no  commun- 
ion, my  life  is  like  a  sheet  of  water  cut  off  from  the 
great  source  of  purification,  —  an  inland  sea.  Which 
of  us  can  claim  even  that  for  himself  ?  Are  we  not 
rather  little  ponds  that  dot  the  surface  of  the  land- 
scape, slowly  but  surely  drying  up  ?  It  is  not  a  mat- 
ter of  indifference  whether  or  not  a  man  believes  in 
his  Father  in  heaven.  If  he  does  not,  it  is  because, 
even  when  he  thinks  himself  most  intellectual,  he  is 
looking  on  the  things  which  are  before  his  face.  He 
is  limiting  his  vision.  And  while  that  does  not  affect 
the  reality,  it  does  affect  his  relation  to  it ;  while 
he  that  is  looking  to  see  Him  who  is  invisible  feels 
the  little  inlet  of  his  soul  washed  clean  by  the  purify- 
ing tide  of  love,  and  in  its  backward  sweep  is  carried 
into  the  Eternal  Sea.      That  daily  ebb  and  flow  of 


THE  POWER   OF  THE   OBVIOUS.  239 

the  Divine  life  into  the  human  soul  brings  at  once 
humility  and  exaltation. 

Once  more.  He  looks  at  the  things  which  are 
before  his  face  who  with  half-pitying  smiles  says, 
*'  Do  you  believe  that  Jesus  is  God  ? "  He  looks 
at  the  story  of  that  life,  and  sees  the  unconscious 
babe,  the  growing  boy,  the  struggling  man,  the  baf- 
fled reformer,  the  exiled  patriot,  the  man  of  sorrows, 
weak  and  weeping,  fearful  and  failing,  tried,  con- 
demned, and  put  to  death.  Surely  we  have  here  a 
man.  Why  obscure  him  by  claiming  for  him  that 
which  destroys  his  true  glory,  which  is  human  ?  This 
is  what  is  before  the  face.  What  is  beyond  ?  This  : 
that  when  he  is  most  manly  he  is  least  like  men  ; 
when  he  is  most  intensely  human  he  is  most  like  our 
noblest  thoughts  of  God.  While  the  tears  roll  down 
his  face  he  says,  "  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the 
life."  When  he  hangs  on  the  cross  he  promises 
paradise  to  the  thief. 

To  say  that  Jesus  is  man  is  possible  only  when  we 
give  a  new  definition  of  humanity ;  but  when  we  do 
that,  we  must  call  him  the  Son  of  God.  He  himself 
has  answered  the  question.  When  the  Jews  would 
stone  him  because  he  made  himself  equal  to  God,  he 
said  :  The  Scripture  calls  them  gods  to  whom  the 
word  of  God  came  ;  it  was  because  of  the  Divine  life 
in  them  that  the  Divine  Word  could  speak  to  them. 


240  THE  POWER   OF  THE   OBVIOUS. 

It  is  because  I  am  the  Son  of  man,  it  is  because  I 
am  what  humanity  was  meant  to  be,  that  I  can  call 
myself  the  Son  of  God. 

The  difference  between  us  and  Jesus  is  one  of 
degree,  not  of  kind.  Is  it  in  the  humanity  or  in  the 
divinity  that  this  is  true?  In  both ;  for  they  are  one. 
To  say  that  Jesus  is  man,  meaning  thereby  such  men 
as  you  and  I,  men  with  low  ideals,  and  feeble  attain- 
ments, and  limited  hopes,  is  a  confusion  of  terms. 
To  say  that  we  are  gods,  hating,  lustful,  faithless,  as 
we  are,  is  blasphemy.  But  to  say  that  Jesus  is  the 
Son  of  man,  the  normal,  ideal  man,  the  image  after 
which  the  race  was  made,  and  that  we,  just  as  we  are, 
have  within  us  that  which  is  akin  to  God  and  may  be 
developed  into  the  likeness  of  his  Son,  —  to  say  this 
is  to  preach  the  Gospel.  It  is  not  a  matter  of  indif- 
ference, it  is  of  the  utmost  importance,  that  a  man 
should  look  below  the  surface  and  have  an  answer  to 
the  question,  "  What  think  ye  of  the  Christ?" 

Once  more.  We  soon  shall  die,  and,  what  is  worse, 
those  we  love  must  die.  Look  at  that  which  is  before 
your  face.  The  hand  so  strong  now  plucks  the  sheets, 
the  eye  so  clear  now  wanders  from  your  gaze.  The 
brain,  the  great  workshop  of  a  lifetime,  has  fallen 
into  ruins.  Is  that  all  ?  I  know  that  to  many  it 
seems  so.  But  some  of  us  see  more  than  is  before 
the  face.     We  see  conscience.     We  hear  it  speak  of 


THE  POWER    OF   THE   OBVIOUS.  241 

an  eternal  law,  and  we  know  that  in  the  life  of  that 
dying  man  there  was  a  true  response.  We  know 
that  there  were  sacrifice,  and  love,  and  a  sense  of 
justice,  and  a  high  sense  of  honor,  and  faith  when 
sight  failed,  and  hope  that  lifted  itself  beyond  the 
l)ody  and  saw  unspeakable  things.  It  was  these  that 
made  up  character :  the  body  was  but  the  tool  with 
which  the  image  was  engraved.  That  remains  our 
helpful  memory.  That,  we  believe,  stands  in  some 
form  of  beauty  in  the  presence  of  the  Eternal  which 
it  loved. 

There  is  no  limit,  my  friends,  to  the  pressure  of 
the  obvious,  nor  to  tlie  inspiration  of  the  invisible. 
It  begins  with  the  child  who  learns  by  rote  or  sees 
the  meaning.  The  one  drags  the  man  to  the  animal 
life,  the  other  lifts  him  up  to  see  the  true  life  of  man. 
One  decks  the  worldling  with  foolish  baubles,  the 
other  reveals  the  glory  of  a  useful  life.  To  one  man 
God  is  a  name,  to  another  he  is  a  Mighty  Friend. 
To  one  Jesus  is  a  curiosity,  to  another  he  is  the 
Saviour.  One  man  sees  the  temporal,  which  is  about 
to  perish  ;  the  other  the  invisible,  which  is  the  eter- 
nal. Why  should  we  speak  of  such  things  ?  That 
each  of  us  may  examine  himself,  and  pray,  "  Lord, 
let  me  not  limit  the  vision  of  my  soul  to  that  which  is 
before  my  face,  but  fill  me  with  that  vision  of  limit- 
less desires  which  is  the  foretaste  of  eternal  life." 

16 


XYIIL 

ALL  SOULS  DAY. 

^ESTERDAY  was  All  Saints  Day.  We  gathered 
J-  together  at  that  great  feast  of  the  Church,  to 
celebrate  the  memory  of  those  who  have  done  great 
work  in  the  Church  of  God,  —  the  martyrs  who  have 
given  their  lives,  the  confessors  who  have  endured 
great  suffering,  the  teachers  of  the  Church  who  have 
changed  the  current  of  theology,  the  great  leaders 
and  directors  of  the  Church's  course. 

But  to-day  is  called  in  the  calendar  of  the  Romish 
Church  All  Souls  Day.  It  seems  strange  that  such 
a  day  should  have  been  dropped  from  the  ritual  year 
of  the  English  Church.  For  what  is  it  that  All 
Souls  Day  brings  to  our  minds  ?  It  is  not  what  we 
may  call  the  great  aristocracy  of  the  Church,  whose 
memory  we  celebrated  yesterday.  It  is  the  greater 
thought,  the  democratic  idea  of  the  Church,  the  great 
mass  of  the  people  of  God  who  have  suffered  and 
died  bearing  witness  to  the  truth,  all  unknown  ex- 
cept to  the  few  who  stood  near  them  in  the  march 
of  the  host.     All  Souls  Day  brings  to  our  minds  the 


ALL   SOULS  DAY.  243 

thought  of  the  great  multitude  of  God's  faithful  chil- 
dren that  has  passed  from  the  seen  to  the  unseen. 
And  we  ask  ourselves  on  such  a  day  as  this, 
What  is  their  life  ?  How  do  they  employ  them- 
selves ?  What  is  their  thought  ?  What  is  their 
condition  ? 

The    life    of   the    dead    is    our    subject    for    this 


The  first  question  that  naturally  suggests  itself  is 
the  most  important  of  all,  —  Do  the  dead  live  ?  It 
seems  so  hard  for  us  to  understand  how  they  live, 
so  difficult  to  picture  to  our  minds  the  conditions  in 
which  they  continue  to  exist.  There  are  men  who 
say,  It  seems  to  us  altogether  improbable  that  there 
is  any  life  beyond  that  which  we  now  know.  Life  is 
so  associated  in  our  minds  with  this  flesh  and  these 
bones,  that  it  seems  impossible  to  imagine  the  exist- 
ence of  any  life  after  the  earthly  frame  has  crumbled 
to  the  dust. 

Of  course,  if  this  be  so,  then  there  can  be  no  God, 
because  God  can  have  no  frame  such  as  we  have. 
And  if  life,  spiritual  life,  is  dependent  upon  this 
earthly  frame,  then  of  course  there  can  be  no  such 
thing  as  a  spiritual  being  existing  apart  from  it. 

But  if  there  be  a  God,  —  if  there  be  such  a  thing  in 
this  universe  as  intelligence,  love,  will,  self-conscious- 
ness, and  self-determination,  apart  from  any  physical 


244  ALL   SOULS  DAY. 

form,  —  then,  of  course,  it  is  possible  that  there 
should  be  many  such  lives.  If  God  exist,  then  it  is 
possible  that  the  dead  may  live.  If  God  does  not 
exist,  then  the  dead  do  not  live. 

And  so  we  bring  it  back  finally,  as  we  must  bring 
back  all  questions,  to  the  existence  of  God.  If  God 
live,  then  spiritual  life  is  possible  apart  from  this 
earthly  tabernacle.  If  God  does  not  live,  it  is  not 
possible. 

So,  then,  unless  we  are  prepared  to  say  that  we  do 
not  believe  in  the  existence  of  God,  but  are  only  con- 
fused in  our  minds  in  regard  to  the  condition  of  the 
dead,  supposing  them  to  live  at  all,  what  must  their 
life  be  ?     How  shall  we  determine  ? 

There  was  a  man  who  lived  near  to  Jesus  Christ, 
who  was  filled  with  his  spirit,  and  was  his  dearest 
friend.  That  man  entered  into  a  great  spiritual  ex- 
perience, and  declared  that  he  saw  things  and  heard 
words  such  as  no  other  human  being  has  ever  seen  or 
heard.  That  was  John.  And  in  the  seventh  chapter 
of  his  Revelation,  at  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
verses,  he  has  written  these  words :  "  They  shall  hun- 
ger no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more  ;  neither  shall 
the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any  heat.  For  the  Lamb 
which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  shall  feed  them, 
and  shall  lead  them  unto  living  fountains  of  waters  ; 
and  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes." 

This  is  John's  description  of  the  life  of  the  dead. 


ALL   SOULS  DAY,  245 

Let  us  consider  it  this  morning,  and  ask  ourselves 
what  it  implies,  and  what  light  it  throws  on  the  great 
mystery  which  has  so  often  perplexed  us. 

The  imagery  is  Oriental.  To  a  dweller  in  the 
East,  the  first  essential  is  protection  from  the  heat 
of  the  sun,  and  from  the  radiating  heat  that  pours 
forth  in  the  evening,  the  one  blasting  the  energies 
at  noonday,  the  other  enervating  the  spirits  at  the 
coming  of  the  night ;  and  then  waters  to  drink  in 
a  thirsty  land.  Those  were  the  things  that  seemed 
to  this  man  John,  as  they  have  seemed  to  every 
Oriental,  the  first  conditions  essential  for  life,  —  pro- 
tection from  heat  and  abundance  of  living  waters. 

And  now  let  us  enlarge  our  thought.  From  this 
simple  statement  given  by  St.  John,  in  the  imagery 
which  would  appeal  to  those  who  first  heard  these 
words,  let  us  enlarge  our  thouglit,  and  say  to  our- 
selves. The  life  of  the  dead  is  a  protected  life. 
^'  They  hunger  no  more,  neither  thii'st  any  more  ; 
neither  doth  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any  heat." 
To  how  many  has  this  thought  brought  great  thank- 
fulness !  The  lives  we  have  known  are  protected 
from  those  ills  wiiich  made  life  so  hard  to  bear. 
Think  of  the  great  multitude  that  stands  before  God 
to-day.  Think  of  the  little  children  brought  into 
this  world  all  warped  and  twisted,  so  that  they  never 
knew  how  to  play.     Think  of  the  young  that  have 


246  ALL   SOULS  DAY, 

grown  up  with  the  promise  of  joy,  only  to  see  the 
cup  of  happiness  dashed  from  their  lips.  Think  of 
the  lives  that  have  been  misunderstood,  —  the  lives 
that  have  gone  on  day  by  day  doing  their  duty,  sacri- 
ficing themselves,  seeking  only  for  what  was  noble 
and  pure  and  of  good  report,  and  all  the  time  mis- 
understood, unappreciated,  without  sympathy,  with- 
out the  encouragement  which  they  so  much  longed 
for,  left  to  bear  the  burden  and  the  heat  of  the  day 
alone.  Think  of  those  who  have  lain  for  years  and 
years  on  the  bed  of  sickness,  only  asking  that  the 
day  might  come  when  their  sufferings  should  have 
an  end.  Think  of  the  women  that  have  borne 
great  burdens, —  burdens  not  only  of  misapprehen- 
sion, of  misunderstanding,  but  of  cruel  brutality,  and 
of  harshness,  and  of  degrading  oppression.  Think  of 
the  multitudes  that  have  risen  day  by  day  only  to 
labor  and  toil,  and  have  lain  down  at  night  too 
feeble,  too  weary,  too  much  oppressed,  for  any 
thought  of  God,  crushed  by  the  burden  and  the 
labor  of  life.  Think,  in  one  word,  my  friends,  of 
all  that  you  and  I  have  known,  of  all  the  great 
multitude  of  whom  we  have  read,  to  whom  this  life 
has  been  bearable,  but  bearable  only,  —  full  of  dis- 
appointment, full  of  pain,  full  of  suffering,  full  of 
great  sorrow  and  great  discouragement. 

Now  the  word  of  St.  John  is  that  from  all  these 
things  they  are  protected.     "  They  hunger  no  more, 


ALL   SOULS  DAY.  247 

neither  thirst  any  more  ;  neither  doth  the  sun  light 
on  them,  nor  any  heat."  A  life  free  from  care  and 
responsibility,  and  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day. 

That  is  the  first  thought  that  St.  John  would  impress 
upon  us  in  regard  to  the  life  of  the  dead.  0,  as  we 
think  of  it  to-day,  how  grateful  we  must  be !  There 
is  no  thought  of  what  shall  come  to  us ;  only  a  great 
thankfulness  that  such  good  things  liave  come  to 
them,  that  their  life  is  protected.  Nevermore  can 
those  things  that  are  so  hard  for  us  light  on  them. 
There  never  again  can  they  enter  into  the  life  that 
they  have  once  known,  and  find  its  bitterness,  and  its 
weariness,  and  its  sadness.  All  Souls  Day  should 
be  full  of  joy  for  the  protected  life  of  the  dead. 

But  that  is  not  all.  "  They  hunger  no  more, 
neither  thirst  any  more  ;  and  the  Lamb  which  is 
in  the  midst  of  the  throne  doth  lead  them  to  foun- 
tains of  living  waters."  A  life  of  satisfaction  ;  a  life 
in  which  every  w4sh  and  aspiration  of  the  soul  is 
gratified.  What  a  life  is  that,  my  friends  !  I  like 
to  tliink,  this  morning,  of  the  great  multitude  of 
God's  children  who  have  entered  into  that  new 
world  and  into  that  new  life,  seeking  such  differ- 
ent things  because  their  needs  are  so  different.  One 
soul  seeks  only  for  rest ;  all  that  it  needs  is  rest,  and 
that  is  given  it.  Another  soul  needs  peace  and  har- 
mony after  the  long  struggle  to  make  peace  on  earth. 
Another  has  been  frightened,  and  longs  for  the  sense 


248  ALL   SOULS  DAY. 

of  safety,  and  that  is  given.  Another  has  all  through 
life  been  thirsting  for  the  sight  of  the  Eternal  Beauty, 
which  no  picture,  no  statue,  no  flaming  of  the  sky  at 
sunset,  could  adequately  express.  "  We  shall  see," 
said  the  prophet  long  ago,  speaking  for  these  artis- 
tic souls,  —  "  we  shall  see  the  King  in  his  beauty." 
Others  have  found  the  satisfaction  of  their  souls  in 
"  the  sound  of  the  harpers  playing  on  the  harps." 
The  great  multitude  whose  souls  have  been  stirred 
by  music,  and  yet  in  the  most  glorious  symphony,  in 
the  noblest  chorus,  have  always  felt  the  human  dis- 
cord that  underlaid  the  harmony,  —  there  they  are 
satisfied,  there  the  perfect  harmony  of  the  Eternal 
Life  soothes,  and  strengthens,  and  invigorates,  and 
inspires  them. 

Others  have  laid  hold  of  the  tree  of  the  knowl- 
edge of  life.  All  through  life  they  hungered  for 
knowledge,  and  yet  all  getting  of  knowledge  was 
the  getting  also  of  sorrow.  There  it  is  changed. 
There  the  tree  of  life  is  seen  to  be  the  tree  of 
knowledge.  Drinking  deep  of  the  Divine  life,  filling 
themselves  with  the  life  of  the  Lamb  of  God,  these 
souls  have  found  that  not  through  knowledge  did 
they  gain  life,  but  that  through  life  they  have  gained 
knowledge. 

0  how  wonderful  it  is  to  think  of  this  vast  ex- 
pansion of  humanity,  as  the  flower  expands  that  has 
been  transplanted  into  a  more  genial  clime  !     It  is 


ALL   SOULS  DAY.  249 

good  to  think  of  the  lives  that  are  satisfied  to-day,  as 
they  stand  before  tlie  throne  of  God,  and  are  led  by 
the  Lamb  to  the  living  fountains  of  waters.  How 
different  it  all  is  I  AVho  can  describe  it?  It  is  like 
the  announcement  tliat  should  come  forth  from  the 
King  tliat  the  gates  of  the  city  are  open  on  every 
side,  and  that  his  people  may  come  in  to  some  great 
feast  that  has  been  prepared  for  them.  How  we  see 
them  crowding  in  !  Each  man  starts  for  the  gate 
that  stands  opposite  the  little  hut  in  which  he  has 
lived.  Multitudes  are  crowding  in  from  the  north 
and  the  south  and  the  east  and  the  west.  Here  are 
the  little  children,  not  content  to  go  in  with  the 
great  multitude  through  the  arching  gate  that  is 
spanning  the  walls  of  the  city,  but  finding  some  lit- 
tle place  broken  in  the  Avail  that  they  crawl  through 
with  laughter  and  joy,  glad  because  it  is  different 
from  the  common  way  on  which  the  multitude  is 
pressing. 

The  life  satisfied;  the  life  rejoicing  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  thing  that  it  has  dreamed  of  as  impos- 
sible ;  the  life  rejoicing  in  the  knowledge  that  every 
hope  that  has  shot  across  its  sky  was  the  witness  to  a 
reality  which  God  had  prepared  for  them  that  love 
him;  —  we  take  it  all  up,  and  we  put  it  into  the  words 
of  the  old  hymn  we  have  sung  so  often,  — 

"  Every  longing  satisfied, 
With  full  salvation  blessed." 


250  ALL   SOULS  DAY. 

Full  salvation,  my  friends.  Perfect  health  of  the 
soul  that  has  been  redeemed  by  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb,  —  the  perfect  health  of  the  soul  that  has  found 
at  last  its  home,  standing  in  the  presence  of  God. 
Sin  has  fallen  away  like  some  filthy  garment,  and 
the  soul  stands  in  the  presence  of  the  King,  and 
the  glory  of  the  King  clothes  it,  and  it  finds  its 
satisfaction  in  beholding  his  beauty. 

And  how  has  all  this  come  to  pass  ?  How  has  this 
great  change  been  effected  ?  Is  it  the  result  of  a 
mere  change  of  place  ?  Is  it  the  result  merely  of  the 
falling  off  of  this  fleshly  covering  ?  We  cannot  think 
so,  and  St.  John  would  not  have  us  think  so,  for  he 
tells  us  that  this  protection  and  this  satisfaction  in 
the  new  life  come  with  the  leading  of  the  Lamb. 
"And  the  Lamb  shall  lead  them  forth." 

The  Lamb  leads  those  who  follow.  The  spirit  of 
Jesus  is  typified  by  the  Lamb.  The  spirit  of  perfect 
sacrifice  is  meant  by  the  Lamb.  And  that  spirit  has 
entered  into  the  lives  of  these  men  and  women,  and 
these  little  children.  It  is  the  new  spirit  that  has 
taken  possession  of  them  in  the  new  life  that  has 
made  the  protection  and  the  eternal  satisfaction.  It 
opens  up  before  us  the  thought  of  the  endless  pro- 
gress of  the  dead.  They  are  being  led  by  the  Lamb. 
There  is  no  limit  to  be  put  to  the  glory  and  the  joy 
of  this  life.    Day  by  day,  —  if  we  may  speak  of  days, — 


ALL   SOULS  DAY,  251 

day  by  day  they  are  being  led  by  the  Lamb.  The  liv- 
ing water  is  never  dried  up.  The  thirst  of  the  great 
multitude  is  unable  to  consume  it.  More  and  more 
they  are  led  on  by  the  Lamb,  the  perfect  Sacrifice,  the 
Son  of  God,  the  Life  in  which  God  is  well  pleased. 

That  is  the  life,  my  friends,  that  the  dead  are 
following ;  and  in  following  it  they  find  their  eternal 
satisfaction  and  their  undying  joy;  —  a  life  protected; 
a  life  satisfied ;  a  life  from  which  monotony  has  been 
forever  banished,  because  there  is  eternal  progress 
under  the  leadership  of  the  Lamb  of  God.  That  is 
the  life  tliat  St.  John  brings  before  us,  and  which  we 
would  call  to  mind  on  this  day. 

And  now  turn  back  from  this  picture  of  the  life 
of  the  dead  to  that  other  one  with  whicli  we  are  so 
much  more  familiar,  which  we  may  call  the  death 
of  the  living.  We  are  not  protected.  On  us  the 
sun  does  light  and  the  heat  does  burn  ;  with  us 
the  sorrow  and  sin,  and  suffering  and  pain,  and  mis- 
understanding and  cruel  suspicion,  and  unkindness 
and  weariness,  and  discouragement  and  hopelessness 
exist.  How  different  is  the  life  that  you  and  I  know 
from  the  life  that  St.  John  has  revealed  as  the  life  of 
the  dead  !  Here  there  is  not  protection  ;  there  is 
not  satisfaction  ;  there  is  not  daily  progress  in  the 
knowledge  of  the  love  and  power  of  God.  How  sad 
it  all  is!      How  dark  the  picture   is,  as   compared 


252  ALL   SOULS  DAY. 

with  the  glory  that  is  revealed  by  the  other !  And  I 
think  it  is  because  of  this  picture,  the  picture  of  dis- 
satisfaction, the  picture  of  the  life  unprotected,  the 
picture  of  the  life  that  does  not  make  progress  in 
holiness  and  joy,  —  I  think  it  is  because  of  the  pres 
ence  of  this  picture  that  men  so  often  ask  themselves. 
Things  being  as  they  are,  how  is  it  possible  that  the 
dead  should  liave  perfect  joy  ?  How  can  it  be  that 
the  mother  can  be  satisfied,  and  full  of  happiness, 
and  absolutely  content,  while  the  son  for  whom  she 
prayed  so  long  is  wandering  in  the  paths  of  sin  ? 
How  can  the  father  be  satisfied  when  the  daughter 
that  he  loved  and  honored  and  respected  is  dis- 
gracing his  name  on  earth  ?  How  can  the  friend 
be  joyful  when  the  friend  that  on  earth  was  dearer 
than  life  itself  is  left  to  bear  the  burden  and  heat 
of  the  day  alone?  How  can  liis  joy  be  perfect,  while 
there  is  loneliness  and  weariness  for  the  friend  that 
has  been  left  behind  ? 

Some  such  thoughts  as  these  come  into  our  minds 
as  we  consider  the  life  of  the  dead  ;  and  we  ask  our- 
selves. How  is  it  possible  that  their  joy  can  be  com- 
plete when  our  life  is  so  weary,  and  our  burden  is 
so  heavy,  and  our  pain  is  so  keen  ? 

Now  as  I  read  these  words  of  St.  John  it  seems  to 
me  that  he  entered  into  that  great  mystery.  And  he 
has  not  pretended,  I  think,  that  their  joy  is  complete. 
He  felt  as  the  writer  of  tbe  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews 


ALL   SOULS  DAY.  253 

felt,  who  wrote  concerning  the  dead :  "  God  having 
provided  some  better  thing  for  us,  that  they  without 
us  should  not  be  made  perfect."  To  the  writer  of  that 
Epistle  it  seemed  impossible  that  the  dead  should 
enter  into  the  full  perfection  of  the  glory  of  the 
eternal  life  until  all  the  host  had  been  gathered  up. 
It  was  like  the  march  into  the  Promised  Land.  The 
multitude  was  winding  its  way  through  the  desert, 
and  at  last  it  came  to  the  banks  of  the  Jordan. 
How  shall  it  enter  in  ?  It  seemed  to  this  man  as 
if  it  were  not  any  longer  one  great  single  column 
that  was  entering  slowly  into  the  promised  land,  the 
rear  in  the  desert  bitten  by  the  serpents,  parched 
by  the  heat,  thirsty  for  the  want  of  water,  and  the 
others  luxuriating  in  the  land  of  milk  and  honey. 
No,  to  him  it  seems  as  if  the  true  joy  had  indeed 
begun,  but  was  not  perfected,  —  as  if  the  multi- 
tude were  halting  on  the  very  brink  of  the  eternal 
glory  of  God,  waiting  for  the  coming  up  of  the 
rear  column  that  was  still  on  the  pilgrimage  in 
the    wilderness. 

That  is  the  thought  that  St.  John,  I  think,  would 
present  to  our  minds.  He  does  not  wish  us  to  be- 
lieve that  the  dead  liave  entered  into  an  oblivion  of 
the  misery,  and  the  weakness,  and  the  weariness  of 
the  human  life  that  they  have  left  behind. 

Then  we  say.  If  they  have  not  forgotten,  how  can 
they  be  happy  ?  how  is  it  possible  that  their  hearts 


254  ALL   SOULS  DAY. 

should  not  be  wrung  with  pain  as  they  look  back  and 
remember  that  which  they  once  knew,  as  they  look 
down  and  see  that  with  which  we  are  so  familiar  ? 

St.  John  did  not  believe  that  their  happiness  was 
complete.  He  did  believe  that  their  life  was  pro- 
tected. He  did  believe  that  they  were  being  satisfied 
day  by  day,  because  they  were  following  the  Lamb. 
But  he  adds,  "  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from 
off  their  faces."  Tears  !  Yes,  tears  in  that  glorious 
life, —  tears  that  must  be  there,  because  of  the  incom- 
pleteness of  human  life,  because  of  the  misery  and 
the  sin,  with  its  penalty,  of  those  who  are  so  dear 
to  the  dead  who  know  the  life  of  God. 

"  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  off  their 
faces."  It  is  inevitable  that  they  should  sorrow. 
It  is  no  less  inevitable  that  their  sorrow  should  be 
comforted  of  God.  See  what  it  would  be  were  it 
otherwise.  You  and  I,  under  the  weight  of  our  bur- 
den, in  the  midst  of  our  temptation,  with  the  weari- 
ness and  the  disgust  of  life  which  are  so  often  so 
strong  within  us,  —  we,  my  friends,  in  all  our  in- 
completeness, are  yet  able  to  lift  up  our  hearts  and 
rejoice  at  the  life  into  which  the  dead  have  entered. 
Now  if  they,  in  the  great  joy  that  has  come  to  them, 
have  become  oblivious  of  us,  then  their  life  is  a  worse 
life  than  ours.  It  is  the  apotheosis  of  selfishness. 
They  have  entered  into  their  joy  and  forgotten 
us.     Like  the  chief  butler  who  was  delivered  from 


ALL   SOULS  DAY.  255 

the  prison,  Joseph  remembered  him,  but  he  forgot 
Joseph.  Such  a  thought  is  impossible.  If  their  life 
is  a  following  of  the  Lamb,  it  must  be  that  their  sj'm- 
pathy  and  their  love  for  us  are  infinitely  deeper  and 
stronger  than  our  thankfulness  for  their  great  joy. 

No,  the  life  of  the  dead  is  not  yet  perfect ;  and  it 
cannot  be  perfect  until  the  number  of  God's  elect  is 
full.  There  is  sorrow  and  there  are  tears  in  the 
heavenly  life.  But  that  sorrow  is  comforted  of  God, 
and  those  tears  are  wiped  away  by  God. 

We  seem  to  see,  then,  the  life  of  the  dead.  It  is 
protected  from  those  ills  with  which  we  are  familiar. 
It  is  being  satisfied  day  by  day.  It  is  progressing 
under  the  leadership  of  the  Lamb.  And  yet  there 
comes  the  remembrance  of  the  sorrow  of  life.  There 
comes  a  flashing  insight  into  the  temptation  of  life. 
There  comes  an  awful  pang  at  the  revelation  of  the 
sin  of  those  that  are  loved.  And  yet  the  life  is  com- 
forted, because  it  is  enveloped  by  the  power  and  the 
glory  and  the  love  of  God,  who  is  all  wisdom  and  all 
might  and  abounding  mercy. 

The  details  of  our  life  may  be  no  more  understood 
by  them  than  theirs  are  by  us.  Only  standing  before 
the  throne  of  God  there  comes  the  eternal  comfort 
that  must  always  come  with  the  remembrance  of 
power  and  wisdom  and  goodness.  And  so  their  tears 
are  wiped  away.  So  their  faces  are  dried  from  the 
tear-drops  that  stain   them,  as   the  roses  are  dried 


256  ALL   SOULS  DAY. 

from  the  rain  on  the  summer  afternoon  as  the  sun 
breaks  from  the  cloud  and  kisses  them  and  dries 
their  faces.  It  is  not  a  life  without  sorrow.  It  is  a 
life  comforted  of  God. 

Thus,  then,  my  friends,  we  think  to-day  of  the 
dead.  We  think  of  them  and  rejoice.  We  do  not 
stand  unmoved  at  an  open  grave.  Jesus  wept.  We 
do  not  pretend  that  pain  is  not  pain,  nor  sorrow  sor- 
row. We  do  not  call  ourselves  Stoics,  men  who  are 
not  affected  by  the  ills  of  life.  We  call  ourselves  the 
disciples  and  friends  of  the  Man  of  sorrows.  But  we 
try  to  see  the  vision  of  John,  and  we  see  that  the 
dead  whom  we  have  loved  are  protected  from  every 
ill.  We  rejoice  that  they  are  being  satisfied.  We  lift 
up  our  hearts  in  thankfulness  to  God  because  we  see 
them  follow  the  Lamb.  Our  hearts  are  filled  with 
an  inexpressible  and  pathetic  joy  as  we  see  them  com- 
forted of  God. 

And  what  is  their  word  to  us  ?  It  is.  Follow  the 
Lamb.  Strive  to  have  the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ. 
For  they  that  have  that  spirit  have  now  the  foretaste 
of  the  life  of  the  dead.  The  ills  of  life  are  not  so 
great : 

"  I  fear  no  ill  with  Thee  at  hand  to  bless, 
Dls  have  no  weight,  and  tears  no  bitterness." 

Follow  the  Lamb ;  for  in  following  Him  and  striv- 
ing to  have  His  spirit,  there  comes  the  satisfaction 


ALL  SOULS  DAY.  257 

that  the  soul  can  find  in  no  other  way ;  and  all  the 
joy  and  beauty  and  glory  of  life  is  found  to  have  its 
interpretation  and  its  full  realization  in  the  beauty  of 
the  life  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Follow  the  Lamb.  So  that  each  day  comes  a  pro- 
gress in  holiness  and  knowledge  and  joy. 

Follow  the  Lamb.  And  so  you  shall  know  the 
comfort  that  comes  of  God.  They  who  live  that  life 
now  shall  enter  into  the  new  city  and  find  that  it 
is  not  strange.  Just  as  we  felt  when  we  have  come 
to  some  city  of  which  we  have  read,  or  pictures  of 
which  we  have  seen.  We  have  felt,  Why,  I  have 
often  been  here  before.  And  yet,  as  day  by  day 
went  on  and  we  beheld  new  glories  and  new  splen- 
dors of  the  city,  we  felt  that  we  had  had  indeed  the 
foretaste,  we  knew  in  some  sense  what  to  expect,  but 
no  expectation  could  begin  to  equal  the  realization  of 
the  glory  and  the  splendor  of  the  new  land. 

And  so,  if  we  follow  the  Lamb,  our  lives  will  be  in 
some  sense  protected.  Our  souls  will  begin  to  know 
the  satisfaction  of  the  life  of  God,  and  we  shall  be 
comforted  by  the  remembrance  of  eternal  wisdom, 
almighty  power,  and  undying  love.  And  then  when 
the  end  comes  for  you  and  me,  and  you  and  I  are 
spoken  of  as  the  dead,  we  shall  enter  into  that  last 
experience,  and  find  it  one  of  infinite  joy  and  infinite 
peace.  For  when  you  and  I  have  reached  that  heav- 
enly land,  and  stand  on  the  borders  of  eteVnity,  we 


258  ALL  SOULS  DAY. 

shall  not  forget  the  life  that  has  been  lived.  As  our 
souls  are  satisfied,  as  we-find  comfort  in  the  Eternal 
Protection,  as  we  follow  the  Lamb  from  one  fountain 
to  another  and  drink  with  exceeding  joy,  there  shall 
come  from  time  to  time,  climbing  up  and  falling  on 
the  shore  of  the  eternal  life,  some  great  wave  of  mem- 
ory ;  and  we  shall  look  back  to  this  little  island  in 
the  eternal  sea  and  behold  the  ones  w^e  love,  who,  like 
shipwrecked  sailors,  look  across  the  great  waste,  and 
wait  for  the  coming  of  the  ship  that  takes  them  home. 
And  no  doubt  a  cry  will  go  up  from  us  as  we  remem- 
ber what  life  was,  and  what  to  them  life  is.  But  in 
that  very  moment  we  shall  be  enveloped  in  the  eter- 
nal arms,  and  the  power  and  the  w^isdom  and  the 
love  of  God  shall  comfort  our  hearts,  and  the  glory 
of  his  presence  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  off  our 
faces. 

My  dear  people,  remember  the  words  of  St.  Paul, 
"If  by  any  means  I  might  attain  to  the  resurrection 
of  the  dead."  Remember  the  w^ords  of  our  Lord,  "  Li 
your  patience  ye  shall  win  your  souls." 


XIX. 

PHILLIPS    BROOKS:    THE   LOVE   OF   GOD 
AND   THE   SERVICE   OF   MAN. 

/  love  the  Father;  and  as  the  Father  gave  me   com- 
mandment, even  so  do  I.  —  St.  Johx,  xiv.  31. 

TT  yTE  buried  him  like  a  king,  for  so  he  was.  Had 
^^  a  stranger  stood  in  our  city  and  asked  what 
this  great  movement  meant,  he  could  have  read  the 
history  of  his  life  in  his  burial.  For  it  was  the  Loyal 
Legion  that  took  possession  of  the  dead  body  and 
stood 'in  silent  guard  beside  it  while  the  multitude 
gazed  for  the  last  time  upon  his  face;  —  and  then  into 
the  church  he  loved  so  dearly  and  served  so  faith- 
fully the  young  men  who  seemed  to  symbolize  per- 
petual youth  bore  aloft  the  great  body  about  which 
his  clergy  and  people  gathered  to  pray  God  for 
strength  to  help  in  time  of  need  ;  —  and  then  it  was 
the  great  multitude  of  the  city  that  he  had  served  for 
so  many  years,  that  he  loved  with  such  a  deep  and 
abiding  love,  that  he  glorified  because  of  the  hope 
that  filled  his  heart  for  every  child  of  God,  wlio 
filled  the  great  square  and  sang  the  hymn  he  loved 
so  well,— 


260  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

"  O  God,  our  help  iu  ages  past, 
Our  hope  for  years  to  come, 
Our  shelter  from  the  stormy  blast, 
And  our  eternal  home !  "  — 

and  then,  through  the  College  yard  where  the  hun- 
dreds and  hundreds  of  those  young  men  whose  joy 
it  had  been  to  listen  to  him,  whose  inspiration  he  had 
often  been,  stood  with  uncovered  heads,  the  funeral 
procession  took  its  way  beneath  the  tolling  of  the 
College  bell ;  and  lastly,  about  the  grave  stood  the 
friends,  disciples,  and  faithful  women  that  had  fol- 
lowed him  to  the  end. 

Now,  in  what  did  his  kingliness  consist  ?  For  it 
is  inevitable  that  we  speak  of  that  to-day,  we  can 
think  of  nothing  else,  and  therefore  we  can  speak 
of  nothing  else.  It  was  indeed  a  marvellous  life,  it 
was  so  rich  in  many  qualities ;  there  was  that  beau- 
tiful poetic  faculty  allied  with  the  power  to  centre  the 
whole  attention  on  the  simplest  details  of  business ; 
there  was  that  marvellous  love  of  humanity,  and  the 
capacity  to  draw  one  friend  to  his  heart;  there  was 
freedom  from  superstition,  and  deep  and  awful  rev- 
erence ;  there  was  that  great  belief  in  liberty,  and 
yet  the  constant  sense  of  service ;  there  was  that 
life  so  capable  of  enjoyment,  and  yet  so  able  to  weep 
with  them  that  wept.  It  was  not,  my  friends,  it 
seems  to  me,  —  it  was  not  that  he  possessed  one  gift 


LOVE    OF  GOD  AND   SERVICE   OF  MAN.      261 

in  excess,  but  that  he  held  together  so  many  different 
gifts  in  perfect  and  beautiful  harmony.  The  things 
that  are  so  often  divorced  in  other  men's  lives  were 
wedded  in  him.  There,  it  seems  to  me,  is  found  the 
greatness  of  his  character,  and,  like  all  great  men,  he 
struck  the  roots  of  his  nature  deep  down  into  the  soil 
of  the  time  and  country  of  which  he  formed  a  part. 

Think  what  a  time  it  was  when  he  was  born.  Then 
Goethe's  influence  was  beginning  to  be  felt  for  the 
first  time  in  EngUmd ;  Coleridge's  mysticism  was 
leading  men  to  look  beyond  the  clouds  to  their  eter- 
nal home ;  Wordsworth's  thrush-like  voice  was  at 
last  finding  its  echo  in  the  hearts  of  weary  men 
who  plodded  along  the  dusty  way ;  Carlyle  was  be- 
ginning to  thunder  at  the  gates  of  sham ;  Emerson 
was  flowing  like  some  wide,  deep  river  leading  men 
to  the  eternal  sea.  While  he  was  a  youth,  Browning 
was  giving  forth  those  bugle  blasts  of  optimism  that 
awoke  an  echo  in  his  heart ;  but,  above  all,  his  friend 
and  companion,  Tennyson,  was  drawing  out  those 
new  stops  in  the  great  organ  of  English  speech 
which  are  destined,  while  that  language  is  spoken, 
to  strengthen  and  ennoble  the  human  i-ace.  How 
many  times  we  have  heard  him  say,  "  You  men  were 
born  too  late.  You  have  never  known  what  it  was 
to  stand  in  the  college  yard  with  the  last  poem  in 
your  hand,  and  know  that  it  had  been  sung  across 
the  seas  to  you." 


262  PHILLIPS  BROOKS, 

All  that  had  a  deep  and  abiding  influence  on  his 
life.  That  marvellous  diction,  that  rich  and  gor- 
geous style,  that  quickness  of  perception  in  regard 
to  literature,  that  thirst  for  poetry,  so  that  at  the  last 
his  bed  was  covered  with  the  books  that  had  been 
his  friends  and  companions  in  tliat  most  lonely  life, 
—  its  influence  is  seen  in  all  that  he  did  ;  it  begot 
the  fastidious  taste,  the  keen  appreciation  of  beauty, 
the  high  ideal  of  literature ;  and  that  was  one  reason 
why  he  always  turned  back  with  such  passionate  love 
to  the  great  University  that  bore  him.  What  had  it 
not  done  for  him  ?  It  had  led  him  to  drink  at  the 
source  of  thought.  It  had  introduced  him  to  those 
who,  though  he  never  saw  them,  became  his  truest 
friends.  It  was  partly,  I  think,  because  he  lived 
when  he  did,  because  he  received,  as  it  were  from 
the  writer's  hand,  the  latest  message  to  the  world, 
that  he  so  rejoiced  in  the  present,  and  felt  that  no 
age  had  been  richer  in  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit,  no  time 
had  more  strongly  felt  the  influence  of  the  character 
of  Christ. 

And  then,  again,  his  love  for  righteousness,  his 
uncompromising  belief  in  the  purifying  power  of  free- 
dom. How  it  was  beaten  and  welded  together  by 
the  blows  of  the  Civil  War !  He  never  outgrew  the 
influence  of  that  dark  hour,  and  nothing  that  ever 
came  in  Church  or  State  could  shake  his  faith  in  the 
people  and  in  the  purifying  power  of  freedom,  not 


LOVE  OF   GOD  AND  SERVICE  OF  MAN.      263 

because  it  freed  men  from  restraint,  but  because  it 
opened  up  to  every  man  the  possibility  of  the  com- 
pletion of  his  character  by  the  exercise  of  all  of  his 
faculties  untrammelled  by  oppression,  and  called  to 
their  highest  opportunity  by  the  voice  of  God  him- 
self. 

So  it  was  in  his  relation  to  the  new  reformation  in 
which  he  was  playing  so  great  a  part.  When  he  was 
a  youth,  Calvinism  was  beginning  already  to  weaken 
and  totter  to  its  fall.  He  heard  Theodore  Parker 
thunder  at  the  gates  of  the  castle  that  had  set  itself 
against  Calvinism,  and  he  knew  that  no  negation 
that  could  be  preached  would  ever  satisfy  the  thirst 
of  the  souls  of  men  for  the  truth  of  the  Living  God. 

He  was  born  when  the  Tractarian  movement  in 
England  was  at  its  height ;  he  saw  the  beginning  of 
that  larger  knowledge  which  has  shaken  the  faith 
of  so  many ;  he  neither  turned  to  the  ecclesiasticism 
which  built  barriers  to  stem  the  flow  of  the  free  in- 
quiring spirit,  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  did  he  lose 
himself  in  the  wastes  of  speculation  till  he  knew  not 
whence  he  came  or  whither  he  was  going. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  those  days,  in  the  latter  for- 
ties and  the  beginning  of  the  fifties,  when  the  storm 
clouds  were  gathering  on  every  side,  that  he  heard  the 
voice  of  that  divine  ^  who,  he  has  told  me  again  and 
again,  was  the  greatest  preacher  that  this  country 

1  Alexander  H.  Vinton,  at  that  time  Rector  of  St.  Paul's  Church. 


264  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

has  ever  heard,  holding  up  to  the  eyes  of  men  the 
character  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  And 
to  that  Mastership  he  gave  himself  soul  and  body; 
he  believed  that  if  Jesus  had  ever  saved  He  could 
save  to-day,  and  in  that  faith  he  never  faltered.  It 
was  no  dictum  of  the  Church  in  which  he  believed ;  it 
was  no  tradition  that  had  come  down  through  the  ages 
that  satisfied  that  soul ;  it  was  belief  in  Jesus  Christ 
as  the  Son  of  God,  manifesting  the  sonship  of  every 
man  and  woman  on  this  earth  to  God.  That  was  his 
Gospel,  "  Whosoever  believeth  that  Jesus  is  the  Son 
of  God,  God  dwelleth  in  him,  and  he  in  God." 

That  w^as  his  message.  Believe  that  Jesus  is  the 
manifestation  of  the  Divine  Life,  and  you  will  know 
in  that  moment  of  belief  that  the  Divine  Life  is  a 
part  of  you.  It  was  no  dictum  ;  it  was  no  tradition  ; 
it  was  no  creed,  in  the  sense  in  which  that  word  is 
often  used.  It  w^as  the  conviction  that  he  was  one 
with  God,  because  lie  was  united  to  Jesus  Christ,  and 
that  every  man  was  essentially  a  part  of  God,  and  that 
the  Gospel  was  to  be  the  illuminator  of  the  darkness  of 
men's  hearts  to  show  them  the  glory  which  belonged 
to  them. 

And  so  he  held  to  that  faith  pnd  held  to  his  Church 
with  such  deep  love,  with  such  loyalty  to  its  order, 
with  such  a  firm  belief  and  high  hope  for  its  possibili- 
ties ;  and  yet  he  neither  believed,  nor  wished  men  to 
think  that  he  believed,  that  his  Church  was  the  only 


LOVE  OF  GOD  AND  SERVICE  OF  MAN,      265 

manifestation  of  the  life  of  the  Son  of  Man,  —  the  Son 
of  God  upon  this  earth.  Far  from  it ;  he  believed  in 
it  and  loved  it,  chiefly,  I  think,  because  he  thought  it 
was  the  most  catholic  of  all  the  companies  of  disciples, 
because  to  him  it  was  the  house  of  so  many  rooms. 
"No  place," — how  often  he  has  said  it,  —  "no  place 
like  Boston  to  preach  the  Gospel ;  no  Church  like 
ours  of  which  to  be  a  minister."  And  yet  that  loyalty 
and  love  enabled  him,  because  the  roots  of  his  being 
struck  down  deep  into  the  life  of  the  Son  of  God, — 
enabled  him  to  have  that  vast  tolerance  that  em- 
braced and  took  in  men  of  other  denominations,  so 
that  to-day  throughout  the  English-speaking  world  his 
name  is  an  inspiration  in  every  company  of  Christ's 
disciples. 

How  he  gloried  in  the  rectitude  of  the  Puritans ! 
How  he  rejoiced  in  the  free  spirit  that  blew  through 
Unitarianism !  How  his  heart  was  moved  by  the 
revivals  of  Moody  and  the  philanthropy  of  General 
Booth  !  No  movement  of  the  human  spirit  towards 
God  was  without  his  sympathy  and  his  help;  for 
wherever  the  spirit  of  man  was  troubled  there  he 
saw  Bethesda,  and  the  angel  of  our  God  descending 
into  the  troubled  waters.  So  he  loved  his  own,  and 
loved  them  to  the  end.  But  he  loved  also  those  of 
other  names,  with  other  ways  of  expressing  them- 
selves, for  they  were  all  the  children  of  one  God ; 
and  out  of  all  the  boundaries  of  the  churches,  beyond 


266  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

the  confines  of  Christianity,  his  great  spirit  roamed 
to  welcome  the  beginning  of  day  in  the  twilight  of 
heathenism  ;  —  ay,  deep  down  into  the  darkness 
where  men  cry  like  some  lost  child  ;  in  the  midst 
of  the  quarrelsomeness  of  the  children  over  the  divis- 
ion of  the  inheritance ;  among  those  who,  like  girls 
love  to  deck  themselves;  —  though  it  wearied  him, 
and  exasperated  him,  and  called  forth  sometimes  the 
strong  expression  of  his  indignation,  it  was  but  for 
a  moment ;  he  turned  again,  and  saw  the  good  that 
held  them  up  and  made  them  lovable.  He  hated  con- 
troversy, and  sought  wherever  he  might  be  to  find 
the  companionship  of  the  Son  of  God.  He  had  the 
power 

"  To  see  a  good  in  evil,  and  a  hope 
In  ill-success,  to  sympathize,  be  proud 
Of  their  half  reasons,  faint  aspirings,  dim 
Struggles  for  truth,  their  poorest  fallacies, 
Their  prejudice,  and  fears,  and  cares,  and  doubts 
Which  all  touch  upon  nobleness,  despite 
Their  error,  all  tend  upwardly  though  weak, 
Like  plants  in  mines  which  never  saw  the  sun, 
But  dream  of  him,  and  guess  where  he  may  be, 
And  do  their  best  to  climb  and  get  to  him." 

All  this  that  Paracelsus  knew  not  and  failed,  he  knew, 
and  therefore  was  strono'  and  loving^. 

And  so,  my  friends,  about  his  Creed.  When  the 
storm  of  misrepresentation  burst  upon  him,  even  to 
those  who  were  nearest  to  him  he  would  only  say : 
"  It  is  a  simple  question  of  honesty.     How  can  they 


LOVE   OF  GOD  AND  SERVICE   OF  MAN.      267 

believe  that  I  would  say  the  Creed  if  I  did  not  believe 
the  Creed  ? "  On  that  he  took  his  stand.  If  any  man 
cared  to  look  into  that  great  face  and  say,  "  I  believe 
that  you  are  a  liar,"  then  he  might  do  it.  He  feared 
no  man.  And  yet  how  did  he  believe  his  Creed  ?  Not 
as  a  piece  of  tradition ;  not  as  something  that  had 
once  been  a  power  in  the  past,  but  of  no  power  now, 
but  must  be  recited  simply  in  order  that  men  might 
receive  the  emoluments  that  came  because  of  that 
recitation.  Far  from  it.  He  said  his  Creed  with  that 
free  spirit  in  which  he  did  everything  else,  because 
those  grand  historic  words  did  express  his  profound 
conviction  in  regard  to  the  Gospel  of  our  Saviour,  that 
God  is  our  Creator-Father,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
manifestation  of  the  Living  God,  that  the  Spirit  of 
God  is  in  the  heart  of  every  man.  The  Creed  was 
to  him  the  symbol  of  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the 
saints.  But  the  words  of  the  Church  must  be  like 
the  words  of  Jesus, —  spirit  and  life.  And  he  would 
not  be  much  troubled  by  this  man's  or  that  man's 
interpretation  of  his  belief ;  nor  would  he  be  driven 
out  of  the  synagogue  because  he  could  not  pronounce 
the  Shibboleth,  but  he  would  say,  with  free,  glad  heart, 
the  great  historic  words  of  the  Creed,  saying  them 
with  an  intensity  of  belief  that  I  think  many  of  us 
fail  to  understand.  How  often  he  used  to  say, ''  What 
the  world  needs  is  not  less  belief,  but  more  belief. 
As  the  years  roll   on,  the  world  will  become  more 


268  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

faithful,  believing  more  and  more."  It  was  not 
quantity  that  he  thought  of,  but  the  quality  of  faith, 
not  the  amount  that  can  be  written  in  a  book,  but 
the  intensity  of  the  spirit's  apprehension. 

Now,  how  did  he  lead  this  life  ?  How  was  it  that 
he  who  joyed  so  in  beauty  was  never  enervated  ? 
How  was  it  that  he  who  knew,  as  none  of  us  can 
know,  the  misery  and  disgrace  and  sin  of  life,  could 
always  have  lived  in  such  an  atmosphere  of  hope  ? 
How  was  it  that  he  could  be  so  loyal  to  his  Church, 
and  yet  so  liberal  in  his  sympathy  with  those  with 
whom  in  many  respects  he  could  not  agree  ?  How 
was  it  that  he  could  have  such  faith  in  freedom,  when 
he  saw  how  the  removing  of  the  barriers  often  leads 
to  degradation  ?  How  was  it  that  with  his  sweet 
poetic  fancy  he  could  bring  himself  to  the  drudgery 
of  work  ?  How  was  it,  my  friends,  that  he,  with  his 
great  heart  beating  for  every  noble  cause,  could  stand 
and  reveal  himself  to  one  or  two  ?  How  was  it  that 
with  all  he  had  to  do  he  never  complained  ?  How 
was  it  that,  whenever  man,  woman,  or  a  little  child 
went  to  him,  he  rose  up  instantly  and  gladly  ?  How 
many,  how  many  of  you  must  liave  had  him  stand 
and  look  from  his  great  height  into  your  eyes  when 
you  had  asked  him  to  preach  somewhere,  to  do  some 
work,  to  undertake  something  more  in  the  midst  of 
that  tumultuous  life,  and  say,  "  I  thank  you  for  this 


LOVE   OF  GOD   AND   SERVICE   OF  MAN.      269 

opportunity."  Yes,  my  friends,  we  see  him  as  he 
was.  The  spirit  of  a  little  child  was  enthroned  in 
the  midst  of  iiis  life,  and  it  led  that  huge  frame  to 
stand  and  serve  as  a  servant  at  the  banquet  of  life  ; 
it  turned  that  mighty  mind  to  worship  truth ;  it  led 
that  great  heart  to  beat  with  love  for  all  who  suf- 
fered and  were  sad ;  and  to  rejoice  with  those 
who  had  begun  to  see  the  kindness  of  their  God  ; 
it  led  him  to  do  the  simplest  duty  day  after  day 
with  a  glad  and  cheerful  heart.  And  why  ?  Be- 
cause he  loved  the  Father,  he  loved  the  Father,  he 
lived  in  the  consciousness  of  God,  and  the  simplest 
duty  that  came  before  him  was  referred  to  eternal 
principles  ;  the  troubled  and  broken  heart  was  seen 
in  the  light  of  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the 
smoking  flax  was  to  him  the  indication  of  the 
presence  of  the  living  God  ;  he  lived  in  the  love  of 
his  Father,  and  therefore  whatsoever  his  Father 
commanded  he  tried  to  do.  And  his  Father's  com- 
mands were  not  words  that  fell  from  the  stars,  they 
were  the  broken  accents  of  humanity ;  the  shameful 
woman  that  brought  her  baby  and  laid  it  at  his  feet, 
and  said,  "What  shall  I  do?"  The  command  of 
his  Father  was  the  message  of  the  dying  suicide  at 
midnight  in  the  hospital,  "  Come  to  me  before  I  am 
gone."  The  command  of  his  Father  was  the  cry  of 
the  little  child,  lost,  not  knowing  its  father's  name, 
or  its  father's  home;   and  he  rose  up  instantly,  be- 


270  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

cause  he  loved  the  Father,  and  did  the  commands 
that  his  Father  gave  him.  God  and  opportunity, — 
these  were  the  poles  between  which  the  sphere  of 
that  noble  life  did  turn  from  the  rising  to  the  set- 
ting of  its  day. 

What  has  that  life  to  say  to  you  and  to  me  ?     0,  as 
that  vast  multitude  lifted  up  Wesley's  hymn,  and  cried, 

*'  Cover  my  defenceless  head 
With  tlie  shadow  of  Thy  wing," 

liow  many  a  soul  must  have  felt  that  now  he  must 
live  nearer  God.  God  help  us  so  to  live !  God  bless 
us  in  our  great  opportunity  to  gather  up  a  little  of 
that  spirit  and  make  it  known  in  home,  in  school- 
room, in  the  warehouse  where  we  transact  our 
business,  in  the  city  streets,  and  in  the  church ! 
God  make  us  purer,  simpler,  truer,  more  diligent, 
nobler  men  and  women,  because  of  that  example 
which  it  has  been  our  privilege  to  see,  and  know, 
and  love! 


XX 


PHILLIPS   BROOKS:    THE    PORTION  OF  THE 
FIRST-BORN.i 

And  it  came  to  pass,  when  they  were  gone  over,  that 
Elijah  said  unto  Elisha,  Ask  what  I  shall  do  for  thee^  be- 
fore I  he  taken  away  from  thee.  And  Elisha  said,  I  pray 
thee,  let  a  double  portion  of  thy  spirit  be  upon  nie.  — 
2  Kings,  ii.  9. 

THIS  wonderfully  dramatic  story  of  the  ascension 
of  Elijah  is  typical  of  what  goes  on  in  the  life 
of  many  a  man  who  is  called  upon  to  pass  through 
such  an  experience  as  that  of  Elisha's  ;  to  have  that 
which  is  the  dearest  and  greatest  thing  to  him  taken 
from  his  sight.  Think,  for  a  moment,  what  the  story 
is.  Elijah  tells  Elisha  that  the  Lord  has  called  him 
to  go  to  Bethel,  and  asks  him  to  remain  behind.  But 
Elisha  will  not  part  from  him.  The  sons  of  the 
prophets  at  Bethel  come  forth  to  Elisha,  and  tell  him 
that  it  has  been  revealed  to  them  that  to-day  his 
Master  shall  be  taken  away.  It  has  been  revealed 
to  him,  too,  only  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  speak  of 
it.     "I  know  it,"  he  says,  "hold  ye  your  peace." 

1  Delivered  before  the  Boston  Young  Men's  Christian  Union,  Sun- 
day evening,  January  29,  1893. 


272  PHILLIPS   BROOKS. 

Again  Elijah  says  to  him,  "  Tarry  here,  for  the 
Lord  hath  sent  me  to  Jericho."  And  again  he  says, 
"  I  will  not  leave  thee."  The  sons  of  the  prophets  at 
Jericho  come  forth  to  tell  him  that  his  Master  shall  be 
taken  away  ;  and  again  he  says,  "  I  know  it ;  hold  ye 
your  peace." 

Once  more  Elijah  tells  him  to  tarry  there,  for  the 
Lord  hath  sent  him  to  pass  over  Jordan  ;  but  he  breaks 
out  with  a  great  cry,  "  As  the  Lord  liveth,  and  as  thy 
soul  liveth,  I  will  not  leave  thee."  And  so  they  two 
went  on. 

Do  you  not  know  some  such  experience  as  that  ?  I 
am  sure  that  many  of  us  do.  There  has  come  first  the 
intimation  that  this  companionship  which  has  been 
the  joy  and  the  comfort  and  the  glory  of  our  life  is 
to  be  ended  ;  and  then  friends,  with  officious  kindli- 
ness, insist  upon  telling  us  explicitly  that  which  we 
ourselves  have  long  known,  but  of  which  we  cannot 
speak.  It  seems  as  if  it  could  not  be.  We  say  to  our 
Master,  as  Elisha  said  to  his,  "  As  the  Lord  liveth,  I 
will  not  leave  thee.  I  will  go  with  thee  to  Bethel,  to 
Jericho,  over  Jordan ;  wheresoever  thou  goest,  I  will 
go  too.  It  is  not  possible  that  my  life  should  go  on,  a 
life  that  has  been  so  wrapped  up  in  yours,  a  life  that 
has  known  this  companionship  for  so  many  years,  — 
it  is  not  possible  that  it  should  go  on  without  that 
companionship.  As  the  Lord  liveth,  and  as  thy  soul 
liveth,  I  will  not  leave  thee." 

And  vet  it  must  be. 


THE  PORTION   OF   THE   FIRST-BORN,        273 

Look  once  more  at  the  story.  After  they  have 
passed  over  Jordan,  Elijah  turns  to  Elisha  and  says, 
"  Before  I  be  taken  away  from  thee,  ask  what  I  shall 
do  for  thee."  And  Elisha  says,  "  Let  a  double  portion 
of  thy  spirit  be  upon  me."  Elijah  answers,  "  This  is 
a  hard  thing  that  thou  hast  asked  ;  nevertheless,  if  thou 
see  me  when  I  am  taken  from  thee,  it  shall  be  so  unto 
thee  ;  but  if  not,  it  shall  not  be  so." 

What  does  this  mean  ?  We  sometimes  think  that 
w^hat  Elisha  was  asking  of  Elijah  was,  that  he  should 
be  endowed  with  twice  the  power  that  the  great 
prophet,  whom  he  called  the  chariot  and  horseman 
of  Israel,  had  had.  And  Elijah's  answer,  "  Thou  hast 
asked  a  hard  thing,"  seems  to  lend  color  to  this 
interpretation. 

But  that  is  not  the  meaning  of  it.  What  Elisha  is 
asking  is  that  he  shall  have  the  portion  of  the  first- 
born. The  old  Jewish  law  required  that,  w^hen  the 
father  died  and  his  property  was  to  be  distributed, 
the  first-born  son  should  have  a  double  portion.  The 
great  law^  of  primogeniture,  which  has  lasted  down 
into  our  own  day,  has  played  an  important  part  in  the 
history  of  the  world ;  and  whatever  may  have  been 
its  disadvantages,  it  certainly  has  served  to  keep 
together  great  and  noble  properties.  By  dividing 
equally  among  all  the  sons,  the  property,  which  had 
been  in  some  sort  the  outward  sign  of  the  nobility 
of  the  family  to  which  it  belonged,  would  soon  have 

18 


274  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

been  dissipated  ;  but  by  passing  it  on  to  one  son,  who 
should  feel  at  once  the  glory  and  the  responsibility 
of  the  heritage  of  the  material  property  that  had  con- 
tinued in  the  same  line  from  generation  to  generation, 
it  would  remain  a  power  for  good. 

Now,  this  is  what  Elisha  is  asking  of  Elijah.  Let 
it  not  be,  he  says,  let  it  not  be  that  I  shall  stand  to 
you  only  as  one  of  the  sons  of  the  prophets  who  are 
on  yonder  hillside,  standing  afar  off  and  wondering  at 
this  strange  thing  which  has  come  to  pass.  Through 
all  these  years  we  have  walked  together.  What  I  am, 
you  have  made  me.  Now  let  me  stand  to  you  in  the 
relation  of  the  first-born  son.  In  the  dividing  of  thy 
spiritual  property,  grant  to  me  the  double  portion. 
And  Elijah's  answer  is  somewhat  like  the  answer  of 
the  Lord  to  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  who  asked  to  sit  on 
the  right  hand,  and  on  the  left,  in  his  glory.  "  It  is 
not  mine  to  give,"  says  Jesus ;  "  but  it  shall  be  given 
to  them  for  whom  it  has  been  prepared  by  my  Father." 
"  You  ask  a  hard  thing,"  says  Elijah  ;  "  nevertheless, 
if  thou  shalt  see  me  when  I  am  taken  from  thee,  it 
shall  be  done  unto  thee ;  if  not,  it  shall  not  be  done." 

The  great  gifts  of  life  are  not  the  result  of  favorit- 
ism. There  is  the  everlasting  law  that  he  who  seeks 
shall  find,  that  he  who  has  shall  receive  more.  If 
you  have  capacity  to  receive  God's  gifts,  no  gift  of 
God  shall  be  withheld  from  you.  If  you  can  see  me, 
says  Elijah,  if,  when  I  am  taken  from  your  physical 


THE  PORTION   OF   THE  FIRST-BORN.        275 

sight  there  enter  into  your  soul  the  unalterable  con- 
viction that  I  am  still  alive,  that  the  power  that  has 
manifested  itself  through  my  life  is  manifesting  itself 
still,  if  the  reality  of  my  existence  so  takes  possession 
of  you  that  when  I  am  taken  away  from  you  you  can 
see  me,  then  you  shall  have  the  double  portion  of  my 
spirit.  When  the  property  that  I  have  accumulated 
is  divided,  you  shall  have  the  double  portion,  and 
stand  to  me  as  the  first-born  son. 

Then  comes  the  last  step  in  this  story.  The  friends 
are  parted  one  from  another.  Elijah  goes  up  by  a 
whirlwind  into  heaven.  Elisha  sees  him,  but  he  cries, 
"  My  father,  my  father,  thou  art  the  chariot  of  Israel 
and  the  horsemen  thereof!  What  is  to  become  of 
Israel  ?  What  is  to  become  of  the  Church  of  God  ? 
What  is  to  become  of  that  great  work  which,  by  thy 
power,  has  been  built  up?  My  father,  my  father, 
thou  art  gone. 

How  that  cry,  my  friends,  has  rung  through  this 
community  in  these  last  days.  How  many  a  man  has 
felt,  as  Elisha  did,  that  the  chariot  and  horsemen  of 
Israel  have  been  taken  away ! 

But  the  story  does  not  end  there.  We  are  told  that 
after  that  passionate  burst  of  grief  the  man  of  God 
turned  to  the  work  that  was  before  him,  and,  taking 
up  the  mantle  of  Elisha  that  fell  from  him,  went 
back  and  stood  by  the  bank  of  the  river  of  Jordan, 
and   smote    the  waters,  and  cried,  "Where   is   the 


276  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

Lord  God  of  Elijah  ? "  And  when  he  had  so  cried, 
the  waters  parted  for  him,  and  he  went  over  as  his 
master  had  done.  He  went  to  the  village  on  the  other 
side,  and,  when  the  people  told  him  that  the  waters 
thereof  were  bitter,  he  took  a  cruise  of  salt  and  sweet- 
ened those  waters.  He  took  up  the  mantle  of  Elijah, 
he  called  upon  the  God  of  Elijah,  and  he  began,  —  in 
spite  of  his  loneliness,  in  spite  of  his  despondency, — 
he  began  to  do  the  great  work  that  through  all  these 
years  Elijah  had  so  magnificently  done. 

I  have  chosen  these  words  to  speak  to  you  about 
to-night,  my  friends,  not  that  we  might  find  in  this 
old  book  a  story  that  reminds  us  of  our  own  experi- 
ence, but  rather  that  we  may  find  in  that  story  an 
inspiration  for  the  life  that  is  now  before  us. 

He,  who  has  been  to  us  as  the  chariot  and  horsemen 
of  Israel  has  been  taken  away.     What  shall  we  do  ? 

I  ask  you,  first  of  all,  not  to  let  this  great  expe- 
rience of  your  life  pass  away  without  claiming  the 
position  that  belongs  to  you.  The  whole  world 
mourns  to-day.  Other  cities  beside  our  own  are 
draped  in  black.  But  we,  we  the  people  of  Boston, 
have  a  right  that  none  others  have  to  ask  that  the 
double  portion  of  his  spirit  should  be  upon  us.  Let 
us  claim  our  advantages  as  the  first-born  sons.  Let 
us  remember  his  love  for  this  city,  let  us  remember 
his  belief  in  this  city,  let  us  remember  the  years  of 


THE  PORTION   OF   THE  FIRST-BORN.       277 

labor  and  the  splendid  inspiration  tliat  be  bas  imparted 
to  us.  Let  otbers  stand  on  tbe  billside  and  watcb 
from  afar  this  great  thing.  But  you  and  I  have  seen 
him  pass  into  tbe  heavens,  you  and  I  are  convinced 
that  that  life  which  has  been  such  a  power  for  good 
for  so  many  years  is  as  alive  to-day,  ay,  is  more 
alive  to-day  than  ever.  We  see  him.  We  know 
that  that  life  is  a  power  still  for  goodness,  is  an 
inspiration  to  some  soul,  is  a  manifestation,  some- 
where, of  the  glory  and  power  of  God. 

We  cry,  "  My  father,  my  father,  thou  art  the  chariot 
of  Israel  and  tbe  horsemen  thereof  I "  That  cry  is 
natural.  That  cry  is  inevitable.  But  let  there  mingle 
with  it  tbe  prayer.  Grant  that  a  double  portion  of 
thy  spirit  may  be  upon  me.  Grant,  now  that  thy 
spiritual  property  is  to  be  divided,  that  it  may  not 
be  dissipated,  that  it  may  not  pass  away  into  many 
hands,  and  so  fail  to  be  the  power  that  it  might  be 
were  it  kept  together  by  one  strong,  loving  son.  Let 
the  city  of  Boston  claim  its  place  as  the  first-born,  and 
ask  that  the  double  portion  of  the  spiritual  property 
may  be  left  to  its  keeping,  determining  that  by  the 
power  of  God  it  shall  be  used  for  all  good  and  noble 
and  true  purposes. 

But  with  the  prayer  must  go  action.  Let  us  take 
up  the  mantle  of  the  prophet  that  has  fallen  from  him. 
What  is  the  mantle  of  the  prophet  ?  The  mantle,  the 
outward  covering  of  the  man,  is  that  which  is  most 


278  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

characteristic  of  bim.  When  we  come  to  turn  over 
those  things  that  were  associated  with  the  life  of  some 
dear  friend,  there  is  nothing  that  brings  the  face  and 
form  of  that  friend  back  to  us  with  so  much  power  as 
some  garment  that  in  life  he  wore.  That  is  the  man- 
tle, the  outward  sign  of  the  man's  presence,  the  most 
characteristic  thing  in  his  life. 

That  is  what  I  ask  you  to  take  up  to-night.  And 
yet,  you  may  well  say,  How  can  we  take  up  the 
mantle  of  this  man  ?  How  can  we  be  what  he  was  ? 
Indeed,  we  cannot  be  what  he  was.  And  yet,  I  think 
if  we  ask  ourselves  what  was  the  most  characteristic 
thing  in  him,  what  was  the  one  thing  that  was  most 
personal  in  his  life,  it  will  throw  light  upon  our  per- 
plexity. We  cannot  take  up  the  great  gifts  that  he 
had.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  those  gifts  can  hardly 
be  called  his  own.  We  cannot  take  up  that  magnifi- 
cent physical  presence  ;  but  indeed  that  physical  pres- 
ence was  an  inheritance,  and,  in  that  sense,  can  hardly 
be  called  his  own.  It  is  not  the  gifts  of  a  man  always 
that  are  peculiarly  his  own.  It  is  the  will  and  spirit 
with  which  those  gifts  are  used. 

Now,  if  you  ask  what  was  the  most  characteristic 
trait  of  Phillips  Brooks's  personality,  I  think  you  can 
find  it  in  the  words  of  the  old  preacher, ''  Whatsoever 
thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might."  That 
was  the  characteristic  of  this  man.  We  remember 
his  genius,  but  we  forget  his  labor.     We  marvel  at  the 


THE  PORTION  OF   THE  FIRST-BORN.      279 

words  that  flowed  so  freely  from  his  great  mind,  but 
we  forget  the  silent,  lonely  hours  in  which  he  dug 
deep  the  channels  for  the  thought  to  flow. 

That  a  man  should  have  been  able  to  preach  as  he 
did,  was  certainly  a  great  marvel.  That  a  man  should 
have  been  able  to  carry  on  all  the  multitudinous  de- 
tails of  such  a  life  as  his,  without  apparent  hurry^ 
without  fretfulness,  with  the  absence  of  friction,  that 
is  another  marvel.  But,  when  you  combine  the  two 
in  one  man,  when  you  see  a  man  with  that  marvellous 
power  of  swaying  the  multitudes,  and  that  rare  gift 
of  giving  his  whole  life  to  one  particular  soul  that 
came  before  him  with  its  grief,  with  its  burden,  with 
its  sin,  with  its  doubt,  with  its  joy,  then  indeed  you 
have  at  once  a  marvellous  character.  And  yet,  in  all 
its  marvel,  one  that  may  be  most  truly  imitated.  For 
what  you  and  I  have  to  do  in  order  to  take  up  his 
mantle  is,  not  to  receive  his  gifts,  but  to  have  his 
spirit  of  self-consecration. 

That  was  his  mantle,  that  was  his  characteristic, 
that  w^hatsoever  he  found  to  do,  he  did  it  with  all 
his  might.  Ay,  rather,  he  did  it  with  the  might  of 
God.  He  did  it  in  the  spirit  of  the  prophet  of  whom 
I  have  been  speaking  so  much  this  evening.  His  con- 
stant thought  was,  "As  the  Lord  liveth  before  whom 
I  stand." 

When  the  details  of  that  great  life  are  better 
known   than   they   can    be  to  most  of   us  now,  the 


280  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

thing,  I  think,  that  will  strike  us  most  will  be  to 
learn  how  his  days  were  filled  with  ceaseless  inter- 
ruptions. Men  are  spellbound  even  by  the  printed 
word  of  his  sermons.  Multitudes  hung  breathless 
upon  his  words  when  they  were  spoken.  But  0  how 
much  more  wonderful  those  sermons  would  seem  if 
we  could  see  the  great  troop  that  passes,  not  merely 
between  the  paragraphs,  but  between  the  sentences 
and  the  words  of  those  sermons.  Sometimes  he 
would  be  called  away  from  the  same  sentence  four 
or  five  times  before  it  could  be  completed.  And  yet, 
there  was  no  evidence  of  impatience.  Each  one  of 
those  was,  to  him,  the  call  of  God. 

Some  of  us  will  remember,  as  long  as  we  remem- 
ber anything,  a  great  sermon  that  he  preached  from 
the  words,  "  I  am  come  forth  from  the  Father,  and 
am  come  to  the  world:  again  I  leave  the  world,  and 
go  unto  the  Father,"  —  and  will  remember  his  appli- 
cation of  that  great  law  of  Christ's  life  to  our  lives. 
He  said  that  should  be  the  life  of  every  man.  Living 
with  God,  he  should  be  able  to  come  into  this  world 
of  sorrow  and  sin  and  tumult  and  perplexity  and  trial, 
and  bring  some  of  God's  Spirit  to  heal  and  comfort 
and  ennoble  it.  And  then,  when  the  occasion  for  that 
service  had  ended,  he  should  return  again  to  God, 
and,  in  the  communion  with  his  Father,  get  the 
strength  and  the  inspiration  and  the  glory  which 
again  the  world  would  need. 


THE  PORTION  OF   THE  FIRST-BORN.       281 

Indeed,  that  was  his  life.  Coming  into  the  world, 
no  matter  what  it  was  that  the  world  wished  from 
him,  making  it  the  invariable  rule  that  he  would 
always  speak  or  preach  wherever  and  by  whomsoever 
he  was  asked,  unless  that  special  time  had  been 
promised  elsewhere.  And  then,  when  that  occasion 
was  over,  returning  again  to  that  secret  communion 
with  his  Father  which  kept  his  greatness  humble  and 
his  power  gentle. 

Surely,  in  some  sense,  you  and  I  might  take  up 
that  mantle.  You  and  I  may  imitate  that  character- 
istic. We  may  so  consecrate  ourselves,  soul  and 
body,  with  just  such  capacity  as  we  have,  with  such 
little  gifts  as  have  been  granted  to  us,  that,  in  the 
spirit  of  our  master  and  of  our  friend,  we  may  build 
up  the  kingdom  of  Israel. 

When  I  think  of  this  great  city  that  is  yet  to  be 
built  about  the  hills  of  old  Boston,  when  I  think  of 
his  interest  in  that  new  city,  his  belief  in  it  and  his 
hope  for  it,  I  ask  myself.  Because  h'e  is  gone,  shall 
his  spirit  not  dwell  here  as  he  dwelt  so  long  among 
the  narrow  streets,  and,  in  the  day  of  small  things, 
in  the  lesser  city  ? 

It  depends,  my  friends,  upon  you.  You,  whom  he 
loved ;  you,  whom  he  so  gladly  served ;  this  Union 
which  he  believed  in  and  expected  great  things  from ; 
—  it  depends  upon  you,  young  men  of  Boston,  to  say 


282  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

whether  or  not  you  count  yourselves  worthy  to  stand 
as  his  first-born. 

Into  this  large]*  city,  that  is  growing  even  while  we 
speak,  I  ask  you  to  take  the  mantle  of  that  prophet, 
and  smite  the  waters  that  divide  us  from  the  nobler, 
purer,  better  life ;  and  you  will  find  that  with  that 
mantle,  that  with  that  characteristic,  you  too  can  do 
the  great  works  that  he  did.  For  —  we  cannot  insist 
upon  it  too  often  —  it  is  not  the  greatness  of  the  gift 
that  makes  the  man,  nor  makes  his  power ;  it  is  the 
faithfulness  and  self-consecration  with  which  such 
gift  as  a  man  may  have  be  used. 

When  we  think  of  the  new  and  better  Church  that 
is  to  slowly  absorb  the  good  in  all,  —  that  will,  in  its 
splendid  growth,  lay  aside  the  childish  things  which 
once  occupied  it,  —  when  we  think  how  his  spirit 
rejoiced  in  the  thought  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and 
how  he  chafed  under  the  limitations  of  all  ecclesiasti- 
cism,  —  then  again  we  say.  Shall  that  spirit  be  a 
power  in  the  reorganization  and  upbuilding  of  the 
kingdom  of  Israel  ?  Or  shall  it  be  only  a  memory, 
as  the  years  go  by  ? 

It  depends  upon  you.  It  depends  upon  you  who 
have  known  him  and  loved  him  to  say  whether  or 
not  you  will  now  stand  as  his  first-born  and  carry 
into  that  nobler,  better,  more  glorious  Church  the 
spirit  of  true  catholicity,  the  spirit  of  brotherly  love, 
the  spii'it  of  deep  reverence,  which  was  the  glory  of 
his  life. 


THE  PORTION   OF   THE  FIRST-BORN.       283 

And  indeed  we  might  go  on,  almost  without  end, 
to  speak  of  the  different  things  in  which  that  spirit 
may  be  carried.  But  the  one  thing  needful  is,  that 
each  of  us  should  determine  to  make  effective  in  his 
own  life  that  beauty,  and  purity,  and  meekness,  and 
diligence,  and  reverence,  and  love,  whicli  was  the  glory 
of  our  friend  and  master.  Let  us  no  longer  cry,  "  My 
father,  my  father  ! "  Let  us  rise  above  all  personal 
grief.  Let  us  rise  above  the  sense  of  the  over- 
whelming loss  to  the  city.  Let  us  not  despair  of 
Israel,  but,  taking  up  that  characteristic  which  it  is 
possible  for  us  to  lift,  and  claiming  our  place  as  the 
first-born,  consecrating  ourselves  to  the  perpetuation 
of  that  spiritual  property  which  has  been  bequeathed 
to  us,  let  us  cry,  "  Where  is  the  Lord  God  of  Phillips 
Brooks  ?  "  Not,  Where  is  he  ?  not.  What  does  he 
do  and  think  to-night  ?  but,  Where  is  the  God  that 
he  loved  and  served  ?  Where  is  the  God  that  he 
made  known  to  me  ?  Is  His  hand  weakened,  or  His 
arm  shortened,  that  He  cannot  save? 

No.  Our  friend  and  master  is  dead,  as  we  say  ; 
but  the  God  whom  he  served  is  alive  forevermore. 
The  face  that  cheered  us,  the  hand  that  strength- 
ened us,  those  are  gone  from  us  ;  but  the  everlasting 
beauty  of  the  Divine  life,  and  the  almighty  power  of 
the  Divine  arm,  those  may  be  ours,  as  they  were  his. 

Where  is  the  Lord  God  ?  That  is  the  only  ques- 
tion we  have  to  ask  ;  and  if  we  ask  it,  and  strike  the 


284  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

waters  that  divide  us  from  the  nobler  and  better  life 
that  God  has  prepared  for  them  who  would  enter 
into  it,  we  shall  find  that  those  waters  divide  for  us 
as  they  did  for  him,  and,  entering  into  the  new 
life,  in  spite  of  our  personal  loss,  and  great  grief, 
and  moments  of  despondency,  the  kingdom  of  Israel 
shall  be  built. 

This  is  the  possibility  and  the  glory  of  the  first- 
born.    God  grant  that  it  may  be  ours  ! 


THE   END. 


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